THE  UNIVt»SIT»    e 


s 


THE 


STORY   OF    NELL    GWYN 


AND     THE 


SAYINGS   OF  CHARLES   THE  SECOND. 


RELATED   AND   COLLECTED 


PETER   CUNNINGHAM,  F.S.A. 


WITH   A   COMPLETE  INDEX   TO   THE   PERSONAGES   MENTIONED, 
NOW   FIRST   PUBLISHED. 


NEW  YORK : 

JOHN   WILEY'S   SONS  . 

1883. 


DA 
09  C^ 


ADVERTISEMENT 

TO  THE  ENGLISH  EDITION  OF  1852. 


The  following  story  was  originally  published  In  "The 
Gentleman's  Magazine,"  for  the  year  185 1,  and  now  appears 
as  a  separate  publication  for  the  first  time  :  corrected 
throughout  and  enlarged  with  such  new  matter  as  my  own 
diligence,  and  the  kindness  of  friends,  has  enabled  me  to 
bring  together.  It  must  be  read  as  a  serious  truth,  not 
as  a  fiction — as  a  biography,  not  as  a  romance.  It  has 
no  other  foundation  than  truth,  and  will  be  heard  of 
hereafter   only   as    It   adheres    to   history. 

Peter   Cunningham. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

Page 

Introduction — Birth  and  birth-place — Horoscope  of  her  nativity — Con- 
dition in  life  of  her  father — Her  account  of  her  early  days — Becomes 
an  orange-girl  at  the  theatre — Effects  of  the  Restoration — Revival 
of  the  stage — Two  theatres  allowed — Scenery  and  dresses — Principal 
actors  and  actresses — Duties  and  importance  of  the  orange-girls  .     .       i 

CHAPTER   II. 

Pepys  introduces  us  to  Nelly — Character  of  Pepys — Nelly  at  the  Duke's 
Theatre — Who  was  Duncan  ? — Nell's  parts  as  Lady  Wealthy,  En- 
anthe,  and  Florimel — Charles  Hart — Nell's  lodgings  in  Drury  Lane 
— Description  of  Drury  Lane  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II. — The  May- 
pole in  the  Strand — Nell  and  Lord  Buckhurst — Position  in  society  of 
actors  and  actresses — Character  of  Lord  Buckhurst — Nelly  at  Epsom     14 

CHAPTER   III. 

Epsom  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II. — England  in  1667 — Nelly  resumes  her 
engagement  at  the  King's  Theatre — Inferior  in  Tragedy  to  Comedy 
— Plays  Mirida  in  "  All  Mistaken  " — Miss  Davis  of  the  Duke's 
Theatre — Her  song,  "  My  lodging  it  is  on  the  Cold  Ground,"  paro- 
died by  Nell — Influence  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  in  controlling 
the  predilections  of  the  King — Charles  II.  at  the  Duke's  Theatre — 
Nelly  has  leading  parts  in  three  of  Dryden's  new  Plays — Buckhurst 
is  made  a  Gentleman  of  the  Bedchamber,  promised  a  peerage,  and 
sent  on  a  sleeveless  errand  into  France — Nell  becomes  the  Mistress 
of  the  King — Plays  Almahide  in  "The  Conquest  of  Granada" — The 
King  more  than  ever  enamoured — Parallel  case  of  Perdita  Robinson 
and  George  IV 30 


Vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Page 
Personal  Character  of  King  Charles  II 48 

CHAPTER  V. 
The  Sayings  of  King  Charles  II 6^ 

CHAPTER   VI. 

Birth  of  the  Duke  of  St.  Alban's — Arrival  of  Mademoiselle  de  Querouaille 
— Death  of  the  Duchess  of  Orleans — Nelly's  house  in  Pall  Mall — 
Countess  of  Castlemaine  created  Duchess  of  Cleveland — Sir  John 
Birkenhead,  Sir  John  Coventry,  and  the  Actresses  at  the  two  Houses 
— Insolence  of  Dramatists  and  Actors — Evelyn  overhears  a  con- 
versation between  Nelly  and  the  King — The  Protestant  and  Popish 
Mistresses — Story  of  the  Service  of  Plate — Printed  Dialogues  illus- 
trative of  the  rivalry  of  Nelly  and  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth — 
Madame  Sevigne's  account  of  it — Story  of  the  Smock — Nelly  in 
mourning  for  the  Cham  of  Tartary — Story  of  the  two  Fowls — Ports- 
mouth's opinion  of  Nelly — Concert  at  Nell's  house — The  Queen 
and  la  Eelle  Stuart  at  a  Fair  disguised  as  Country  Girls — Births, 
Marriages,  and  Creations — Nelly's  disappointment — Her  witty  Re- 
mark to  the  King — Her  son  created  Earl  of  Burford,  and  betrothed 
to  the  daughter  and  heiress  of  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford 76 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Houses  in  which  Nelly  is  said  to  have  lived — Burford  House,  Windsor, 
one  of  the  few  genuine — Her  losses  at  basset— Court  paid  to  Nelly 
by  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  Lord  Cavendish,  &c. — Death  of  her 
mother — Printed  elegy  on  her  death — Nelly's  household  expenses — 
Bills  for  her  chair  and  bed— Death  of  Mrs.  Roberts — Foundation  of 
Chelsea  Hospital — Nelly  connected  with  its  origin — Books  dedicated 
to  Nelly— Death  of  her  second  son — The  Earl  Burford  created  Duke 
of  St.  Alban's— Nelly's  only  letter— Ken  and  Nelly  at  Winchester- 
Nelly  at  Avington— Death  of  the  King— Was  the  King  poisoned  ?— 
Nelly  to  have  been  created  Countess  of  Greenwich  if  the  King  had 
lived ^2 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Page 
Nelly  in  real  mourning,  and  outlawed  for  debt — Death  of  Otway,  tutor  to 

her  son — James  II.  pays  her  debts — The  King's  kindness  occasions 

a  groundless  rumour  that  she  has  gone  to  mass — Her  intimacy  with 

Dr.  Tenison,  then  Vicar  of  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  and  Dr.  Lower 

the  celebrated  physician — She  sends  for  Tenison  in  her  last  illness — 

Her  death  and  contrite  end — Her  will  and  last  request  of  her  son — 

Her  funeral — Tenison  preaches  her  funeral  sermon — False  account 

of  the  sermon  cried  by  hawkers  in  the  streets — The  sermon  used  as 

an  argument  against  Tenison's  promotion  to  the  see  of  Lincoln — 

Queen  Mary's  defence  of  him  and  of  Nelly — Her  son  the  Duke  of  St. 

Alban's — Eleanor  Gwyn  and  Harriet  Mellon — Various  .portraits  of 

Nelly — Further  anecdotes — Conclusion 109 

Appendix  A.     On  the  Chronology  of  the  English  portion  of  De  Gram- 

mont's  Memoirs 125 

Appendix  B.     Some  Account  of  Hamilton,  his  Brothers  and  Sisters    .     .  140 


The  Story  of  Nell  Gwyn. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Tntroduciion — Birth  and  birth-place — Horoscope  of  her  nativity — Condition  in  life  of  her 
Father — Her  account  of  her  early  days — Becomes  an  orange-girl  at  the  theatre — 
Effects  of  the  Restoration — Revival  of  the  stage — Two  theatres  allowed— Scenery  and 
dresses — Principal  actors  and  actresses — Duties  and  importance  of  the  orange-girls. 

Dr.  Thomas  Tenison,  afterwards  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
preached  the  funeral  sermon  of  Nell  Gwyn.  What  so  good  a 
man  did  not  think  an  unfit  subject  for  a  sermon,  will  not  be 
thought,  I  trust,  an  unfit  subject  for  a  book ;  for  the  life  that 
was  spent  remissly  may  yet  convey  a  moral,  like  that  of  Jane 
Shore,  which  the  wise  and  virtuous  Sir  Thomas  More  has  told 
so  touchingly  in  his  History  of  King  Richard  III. 

The  English  people  have  always  entertained  a  peculiar  lik- 
ing for  Nell  Gwyn.  There  is  a  sort  of  indulgence  towards  her 
not  generally  conceded  to  any  other  woman  of  her  class.  Thou- 
sands are  attracted  by  her  name,  they  know  not  why,  and  do 
not  stay  to  inquire.  It  is  the  popular  impression  that,  with  all 
her  failings,  she  had  a  generous  as  well  -as  a  tender  heart ;  that 
when  raised  from  poverty,  she  reserved  her  wealth  for  others 
rather  than  herself;  and  that  the  Influence  she  possessed  was 
often  exercised  for  good  objects,  and  never  abused.  Con- 
trasted with  others  in  a  far  superior  rank  in  life,  and  tried  by 
fewer  temptations,  there  is  much  that  marks  and  removes  her 


2  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

from  the  common  herd.  The  many  have  no  sympathy,  nor 
should  they  have  any,  for  Barbara  Palmer,  Louise  de  Querou- 
aille,  orErengard  de  Schulenberg;  but  for  Nell  Gwyn,  "  pretty 
witty  Nell,"  there  is  a  tolerant  and  kindly  regard,  which  the 
following  pages  are  designed  to  illustrate  rather  than  extend. 

The  Coal  Yard  in  Drury  Lane,  a  low  alley,  the  last  on  the 
east  or  city  side  of  the  lane,  and  still  known  by  that  name,  was, 
it  is  said,  the  place  of  Nell  Gwyn's  birth.  They  show,  how- 
ever, in  Pipe  Lane,  in  the  parish  of  St.  John,  in  the  city  of 
Hereford,  a  small  house  of  brick  and  timber,  now  little  better 
than  a  hovel,  in  which,  according  to  local  tradition,  she  was 
born.  That  the  Coal  Yard  was  the  place  of  her  birth  was  stated 
in  print  as  early  as  1721  ;  and  this  was  copied  by  Oldys,  a 
curious  inquirer  into  literary  and  dramatic  matters,  in  the 
account  of  her  life  which  he  wrote  for  Curll.*  The  Hereford 
story  too  is  of  some  standing ;  but  there  is  little  else  I  am 
afraid  to  support  it.  The  capital  of  the  cider  country,  how- 
ever, does  not  want  even  Nell  Gwyn  to  add  to  its  theatrical 
reputation  ;  in  the  same  cathedral  city  which  claims  to  be  the 
birth-place  of  the  best  known  English  actress,  was  born, 
seventy  years  later,  David  Garrick,  the  greatest  and  best 
known  actor  we  have  yet  had.f 

The  horoscope  of  the  nativity  of  Eleanor  Gwyn,  the  work 
perhaps  of  Lilly,  is  still  to  be  seen  among  Ashmole's  papers  in 
the  Museum  at  Oxford.  She  was  born,  it  states,  on  the  2nd 
of  February,  1650.  The  horoscope  shows  what  stars  were 
supposed  to  be  in  the  ascendant  at  the  time ;  and  such  of  my 
readers  as  do  not  disdain  a  study  which  engaged  the  attention 

*  Curll's  History  of  the  English  Stage,  8vo,  1741,  p.  in. 

f  "  When  I  went  first  to  Oxford,  Dr.  John  Ireland,  an  antiquary,  assured  me  that  Nelly 
was  bom  in  Oxford.  He  named  the  parish,  but  I  have  forgot  it.  It  is  certain  that  two  of 
her  son's  titles — Headinglon  and  Burford — were  taken  from  Oxfordshire  localities."— 
MS.  note  by  the  late  Charles  Kirkpatrick  Sharpe,  the  antiquary  and  genealogist.  Oddly 
enough,  one  of  Nelly's  grandsons  died  Bishop  of  Hereford. 


HER    FATHER   AND    MOTHER.  3 

and  ruled  not  unfrequently  the  actions  of  vigorous-minded 
men,  like  Lord  Chancellor  Shaftesbury  and  the  poet  Dryden, 
may  find  more  meaning  in  the  state  of  the  heavenly  bodies  at 
her  birth  than  I  have  as  yet  succeeded  in  detecting. 

Of  the  early  history  of  Nell,  and  of  the  rank  in  life  of  her 
parents,  very  little  is  known  with  certainty.  Her  father,  it  is 
said,  was  Captain  Thomas  Gwyn,  of  an  ancient  family  in 
Wales.*  The  name  certainly  is  of  Welch  extraction,  and  the 
descent  may  be  admitted  without  adopting  the  captaincy ;  for 
by  other  hitherto  received  accounts  her  father  w-as  a  fruiterer 
in  Covent  Garden.  She  speaks  in  her  will  of  her  "kinsman 
Cholmley,"  and  the  satires  of  the  time  have  pilloried  a  cousin, 
raised  by  her  influence  to  an  ensigncy  from  the  menial  office  of 
one  of  the  black  guard  employed  in  carrying  coals  at  Court. 
Her  mother,  who  lived  to  see  her  daughter  a  favourite  of  the 
King,  and  the  mother  by  him  of  at  least  two  children,  was  acci- 
dentally drowned  in  a  pond  near  the  Neat  Houses  at  Chelsea. 
Her  Christian  name  was  Eleanor,  but  her  maiden  name  is 
unknown. 

Whatever  the  station  in  life  to  which  her  pedigree  might 
have  entitled  her,  her  bringing  up,  by  her  own  account,  was 
humble  enough.  "Mrs.  Pierce  tells  me,"  says  Pepys,  "that 
the  two  Marshalls  at  the  King's  House  are  Stephen  Marshall's, 
the  great  Presbyterian's  daughters :  and  that  Nelly  and  Beck 
Marshall  falling  out  the  other  day,  the  latter  called  the  other 
my  Lord  Buckhurst's  mistress.  Nell  answered  her,  '  I  was  but 
one  man's  mistress,  though  I  was  brought  up  in  a  brothel  to 
fill  strong  water  f  to  the  gentlemen  ;  and  you  are  a  mistress  to 
three  or  four,  though  a  Presbyter's  praying  daughter.' "  This, 
for  a  girl  of  any  virtue  or  beauty,  was  indeed  a  bad  bringing-up. 

*MS.  note  by  Van  Bossen,  made  in  1688,  and  quoted  at  length  in  a  subsequent  page. 
\  Among  Mr.  Akerman's  "  Tradesmen's  Tokens  current  in  London,  164S  to  1672,"  is 
that  of  "a  strong  water  man." 


4  THE   STORY   OF  NELL   GWYN. 

The  Coal  Yard,  infamous  in  later  years  as  one  of  the  resi- 
dences of  Jonathan  Wild,  was  the  next  turning  in  the  same 
street  to  the  still  more  notorious  and  fashionably  inhabited 
Lewknor  Lane,  where  young  creatures  were  inveigled  to 
infamy,  and  sent  dressed  as  orange-girls  to  sell  fruit  and 
attract  attention  in  the  adjoining  theatres. 

That  this  was  Nelly's  next  calling  we  have  the  testimony 
of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  and  the  authority  of  a  poem  of 
the  time,  attributed  to  Lord  Rochester : 

But  first  the  basket  her  fair  arm  did  suit, 
Laden  with  pippins  and  Hesperian  fruit ; 
This  first  step  raised,  to  the  wondering  pit  she  sold 
The  lovely  fruit  smiling  with  streaks  of  gold. 

Nell  was  now  an  orange-girl,  holding  her  basket  of  fruit  cov- 
ered with  vine-leaves  in  the  pit  of  the  King's  Theatre,  and 
takinof  her  stand  with  her  fellow  fruit- women  in  the  front-row 
of  the  pit,  with  her  back  to  the  stage.*  The  cry  of  the  fruit- 
women,  which  Shadwell  has  preserved,  "  Oranges !  will  you 
have  any  oranges  ? "  f  must  have  come  clear  and  invitingly 
from  the  lips  of  Nell  Gwyn. 

She  was  ten  years  of  age  at  the  restoration  of  King  Charles 
II.,  in  1660.  She  was  old  enough,  therefore,  to  have  noticed  the 
extraordinary  change  which  the  return  of  royalty  effected  in 
the  manners,  customs,  feelings,  and  even  conversation  of  the 
bulk  of  the  people.  The  strict  observance  of  the  Sabbath  was 
no  longer  rigidly  enforced.  Sir  Charles  Sedley  and  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham  rode  in  their  coaches  on  a  Sunday,  and  the 
barber  and  the  shoe-black  shaved  beards  and  cleaned  boots  on 
the  same  day,  without  the  overseers  of  the  poor  of  the  parish 
inflicting  fines  on  them  for  such  (as  they  were  then  thought) 
unseemly  breaches  of  the  Sabbath.     Maypoles  were  once  more 

*  T.  Shad  well's  W^orks,  iii.  173. 

f  Davies's  Dramatic  Miscellanies,  iii.  464. 


THE    RESTORATION.  5 

erected  on  spots  endeared  by  old  associations,  and  the  people 
again  danced  their  old  dances  around  them.  The  Cavalier 
restored  the  royal  insignia  on  his  fire-place  to  its  old  position ; 
the  King's  Head,  the  Duke's  Head,  and  the  Crown  were  once 
more  favourite  signs  by  which  taverns  were  distinguished ; 
drinking  of  healths  and  deep  potations,  with  all  their  Low- 
Country  honours  and  observances,  were  again  in  vogue. 
Oughtred,  the  mathematician,  died  of  joy,  and  Urquhart,  the 
translator  of  Rabelais,  of  laughter,  at  hearing  of  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  English  to  "welcome  home  old  Rowley."*  The  King's 
health — 

Here's  a  health  unto  his  Majesty,  with  a  fa,  la,  la,  f 

was  made  the  pretext  for  the  worst  excesses,  and  irreligion 
and  indecency  were  thought  to  secure  conversation  against 
a  suspicion  of  disloyalty  and  fanaticism.  Even  the  common 
people  took  to  gay-coloured  dresses  as  before ;  and  a  freedom 
of  spirits,  rendered  familiar  by  early  recollection,  and  only  half 
subdued  by  Presbyterian  persecution,  was  confirmed  by  a 
licence  of  tongue  which  the  young  men  about  court  had  ac- 
quired while  in  exile  with  their  sovereign. 

*  "Welcome  home,  old  Rowley,"  is  the  name  of  the  well-known  Scottish  tune  called 
'*  Had  away  frae  me,  Donald."     See  Johnson's  Scott's  Musical  Museum,  iv.  31S. 

f  One  of  the  seven  "Choice  New  English  Ayres  "  in  Songs  and  Fancies  in  three,  four, 
five  parts,  both  apt  for  the  Voices  and  Viols,  with  a  brief  Introduction  to  Musick,  as  taught 
in  the  Musick-School  of  Aberdeen,  third  Edition,  enlarged,  Aberdeen  by  Jo.  Forbes, 
16S2,  is— 

"  Here's  a  health  unto  his  Majesty,  with  a  fa,  la,  la. 
Conversion  to  his  enemies,  with  a  fa,  la,  la. 
And  he  that  will  not  pledge  his  health, 
I  wish  him  neither  wit  nor  wealth, 
Nor  yet  a  rope  to  hang  himself. 

With  a  fa,  la,  la,  la, 
With  a  fa.  la,"  &c. 

The  music  appears  to  have  been  the  composition  of  "  Mr.  John  Savile."  Shadwell 
refers  to  the  song,  Works,  ii.  268  ;  iii.  52. 


6  THE    STORY    OF   NELL    GWYN. 

Not  the  least  striking  effect  of  the  restoration  of  the  King 
was  the  revival  of  the  English  theatres.  They  had  been  closed 
and  the  players  silenced  for  three-and-twenty  years,  and  in  that 
space  a  new  generation  had  arisen,  to  whom  the  entertainments 
of  the  stage  were  known  but  by  name.  The  theatres  were  now 
re-opened,  and  with  every  advantage  which  stage  properties, 
new  and  improved  scenery,  and  the  costliest  dresses,  could  lend 
to  help  them  forward.  But  there  were  other  advantages  equally 
new,  and  of  still  greater  importance,  but  for  which  the  name  of 
Eleanor  Gwyn  would  in  all  likelihood  never  have  reached  us. 

From  the  earliest  epoch  of  the  stage  in  England  till  the 
theatres  were  silenced  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War,  female 
characters  had  invariably  been  played  by  men,  and  during  the 
same  brilliant  period  of  our  dramatic  history  there  is  but  one 
instance  of  a  sovereign  witnessing  a  performance  at  a  public 
theatre.  Henrietta  Maria,  though  so  great  a  favourer  of  theat- 
rical exhibitions,  was  present  once,  and  once  only,  at  the  theatre 
in  the  Blackfriars.     The  plays  of  Shakespeare  and  Ben  Jonson, 

Which  so  did  take  Eliza  and  our  James, 

were  invariably  seen  by  those  sovereigns,  as  afterwards  by 
Charles  I.,  in  the  halls,  banqueting  houses,  and  cockpits  at- 
tached to  their  palaces.  With  the  Restoration  came  women  on 
the  stage,  and  the  King  and  Queen,  the  Dukes  of  York  and 
Buckingham,  the  chief  courtiers,  and  the  maids  of  honour,  were 
among  the  constant  frequenters  of  the  public  theatres. 

Great  interest  was  used  at  the  Restoration  for  the  erection 
of  new  theatres  in  London,  but  the  King,  acting  it  is  thought 
on  the  advice  of  Clarendon,  who  wished  to  stem  at  all  points 
the  flood  of  idle  gaiety  and  dissipation,  would  not  allow  of  more 
than  two — the  King's  Theatre,  under  the  control  of  Thomas 
KilUgrew,  and  the  Duke's  Theatre  (so  called  in  compliment  to 
his  brother,  the   Duke  of  York),   under  the  direction  of  Sir 


THE    THEATRES.  7 

William  Davenant.  Better  men  for  the  purpose  could  not  have 
been  chosen.  Killigrew  was  one  of  the  grooms  of  the  bed- 
chamber to  the  King,  a  well-known  wit  at  court  and  a  dramatist 
himself;  and  Davenant,  who  filled  the  office  of  Poet  Laureate  in 
the  household  of  the  King,  as  he  had  done  before  to  his  father, 
King  Charles  I.,  had  been  a  successful  writer  for  the  stage, 
while  Ben  Jonson  and  Massinger  were  still  alive.  The  royal 
brothers  patronised  both  houses  with  equal  earnestness,  and 
the  patentees  vied  with  each  other  in  catering  successfully  for 
the  public  amusement. 

The  King's  Theatre,  or  "The  Theatre,"  as  it  was  commonly 
called,  stood  in  Drury  Lane,  on  the  site  of  the  present  building, 
and  was  the  first  theatre,  as  the  present  is  the  fourth,  erected 
on  the  site.  It  was  small,  with  few  pretensions  to  architectural 
beauty,  and  was  first  opened  on  the  8th  of  April,  1663,  when 
Nell  was  a  girl  of  thirteen.  The  chief  entrance  was  in  Little 
Russell  Street,  not  as  now  in  Brydges  Street.  The  stage  was 
lighted  with  wax  candles,  on  brass  censers  or  cressets.  The 
pit  lay  open  to  the  weather  for  the  sake  of  light,  but  was  sub- 
sequently covered  in  with  a  glazed  cupola,  which  however  only 
imperfectly  protected  the  audience,  so  that  in  stormy  weather 
the  house  was  thrown  into  disorder,  and  the  people  in  the  pit 
were  fain  to  rise. 

The  Duke's  Theatre,  commonly  called  "The  Opera,"  from 
the  nature  of  its  performances,  stood  at  the  back  of  what  is  now 
the  Royal  College  of  Surgeons  in  Portugal  Row,  on  the  south 
side  of  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  It  was  originally  a  tennis-court, 
and,  like  its  rival,  was  run  up  hurriedly  to  meet  the  wants  of 
the  age.  The  interior  arrangements  and  accommodations  were 
much  the  same  as  at  Killiofrew's  house. 

The  company  at  the  King's  Theatre  included,  among  the 
actors,  at  the  first  opening  of  the  house,  Theophilus  Bird,  Charles 
Hart,  Michael  Mohun,  John  Lacy,  Nicholas  Burt,  William  Cart- 


8  THE   STORY   OF   NELL   G\VYN. 

wricrht.  William  Wintershall,  Walter  Clun,  Robert  Shatterell, 
and  Edward  Kynaston ;  and  Mrs.  Corey,  Mrs.  Ann  Marshall, 
Mrs.  Rebecca  Marshall,  Mrs.  Eastland,  Mrs.  Weaver,  Mrs. 
Uphill,  Mrs.  Knep,  and  Mrs.  Hughes,  were  among  the  female 
performers.  Joe  Haines,  the  low  comedian,  and  Cardell  Good- 
man, the  lover  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  were  subsequent 
accessions  to  the  troop;  and  so  also  were  Mrs.  Boutell  and 
"Mrs.  Ellen  Gwyn." 

Bird  belonged  to  the  former  race  of  actors,  and  did  not  long 
sun-ive  the  Restoration.  Hart  and  Clun  had  been  bred  up  as 
boys  at  the  Blackfriars  to  act  women's  parts.  Hart,  who  had 
served  as  a  captain  in  the  King's  army,  rose  to  the  summit  of 
his  profession,  but  Clun  was  unfortunately  killed  while  his  repu- 
tation was  still  on  the  increase.  Mohun  had  played  at  the  Cock- 
pit before  the  Civil  Wars,  and  had  served  as  a  captain  under  the 
King,  and  afterwards  in  the  same  capacity  in  Flanders,  where 
he  received  the  pay  of  a  major;  he  was  famous  in  lago  and 
Cassius.  Lacy,  a  native  of  Yorkshire,  was  the  Irish  Johnstone 
and  Tyrone  Power  of  his  time.  Burt,  who  had  been  a  boy 
first  under  Shank  at  the  Blackfriars,  and  then  under  Beeston  at 
the  Cockpit,  was  famous  before  the  Civil  Wars  for  the  part  of 
Clariana  in  Shirley's  play  of  Love's  Cruelty,  and  after  the 
Restoration  equally  famous  as  Othello.  Cartwright  and  Win- 
tershall had  belonged  to  the  private  house  in  Salisbury  Court 
Cartwright  won  great  renown  in  Falstaff,  and  as  one  of  the  two 
kincfs  of  Brentford  in  the  farce  of  The  Rehearsal.  Wintershall 
played  Master  Slender,  for  which  Dennis  the  critic  commends 
him  highly,  and  was  celebrated  for  his  Cokes  in  Ben  Jonson's 
Bartholomew  Fair.  Shatterell  had  been  quarter-master  in  Sir 
Robert  Dallison's  regiment  of  horse, — the  same  in  which  Hart 
had  been  a  lieutenant  and  Burt  a  cornet.  Kynaston  acquired 
especial  favour  in  female  parts,  for  which,  indeed,  he  continued 
celebrated  long  after  the  introduction  of  women  on  the  stage. 


THE   ACTORS   AND    ACTRESSES.  9 

Such  were  the  actors  at  the  King's  House  when  Nell  Gwyn 
joined  the  company. 

Mrs.  Corey  (the  name  Miss  had  then  an  improper  mean- 
ing, and  the  women  though  single  were  called  Mistresses)  * 
played  Abigail,  in  the  Scornful  Lady  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher; 
Sempronia,  in  Jonson's  Catiline ;  and  was  the  original  Widow 
Blackacre  in  Wycherley's  Plain  Dealer; — Pepys  calls  her  Doll 
Common.  The  two  Marshalls,  Ann  and  Rebecca  (to  whom  I 
have  already  had  occasion  to  refer),  were  the  younger  daugh- 
ters of  the  well-known  Stephen  Marshall,  the  Presbyterian 
divine,  who  preached  the  sermon  at  the  funeral  of  John  Pym. 
Mrs.  Uphill  was  first  the  mistress  and  then  the  wife  of  Sir 
Robert  Howard,  the  poet.  Mrs.  Knep  was  the  wife  of  a 
Smithfield  horsedealer,  and  the  Mistress  of  Pepys.  Mrs. 
Hughes,  better  known  as  Peg,  was  the  mistress  of  Prince 
Rupert,  by  whom  she  had  a  daughter ;  and  Mrs.  Boutell  was 
famous  for  playing  Statira  to  Mrs.  Barry's  Roxana,  in  Lee's 
impressive  tragedy  of  Alexander  the  Great.  Such  were  the 
actresses  when  Nell  came  amono:  them. 

Among  the  actors  at  the  Duke's  were  Thomas  Bctterton, 
the  rival  of  Burbage  and  Garrick  in  the  well-earned  greatness 
of  his  reputation,  and  the  last  survivor  of  the  old  school  of  act- 
ors; Joseph  Harris,  the  friend  of  Pepys,  originally  a  seal-cutter, 
and  famous  for  acting  Romeo,  Wolsey,  and  Sir  Andrew  Ague- 
cheek  ;  William  Smith,  a  barrister  of  Gray's  Inn,  celebrated  as 
Zanga  in  Lord  Orrery's  Mustapha ;  Samuel  Sandford,  called  by 
King  Charles  IL  the  best  representative  of  a  villain  in  the  world, 
and  praised  both  by  Langbaine  and  Steele  for  his  excellence  in 
his  art ;  James  Nokes,  originally  a  toyman  in  Cornhill,  famous 
for  playing  Sir  Nicholas  Cully  in  Etherege's  Love  in  a  Tub,  for 
his  bawling  fops,  and  for  his  "  good  company ;  "  Cave  Under- 

*  The  first  unmarried  actress  who  had  Miss  before  her  name  on  a  playbill  was  Miss 
Cross,  the  original  Miss  Hoyden  in  Vanbrugh's  Relapse. 


lO  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   G\VYN. 

hill,  clever  as  Cutter  in  Cowley's  comedy,  and  as  the  grave- 
dio-eer  in  Hamlet,  called  by  Steele  "honest  Cave  Underhill;" 
and  Matthew  Medbourne,  a  useful  actor  in  parts  not  requiring 
any  great  excellence.  The  women  were,  Elizabeth  Davenport, 
the  first  Roxolana  in  the  Siege  of  Rhodes,  snatched  from  the 
staee  to  become  the  mistress  of  the  twentieth  and  last  Earl  of 
Oxford  of  the  noble  family  of  Vere;  Mary  Saunderson,  famous 
as  Queen  Katharine  and  Juliet,  afterwards  the  wife  of  the  great 
Betterton ;  Mary  or  Moll  Davis,  excellent  in  singing  and  danc- 
ing,— after^vards  the  mistress  of  Charles  II. ;  Mrs.  Long,  the 
mistress  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond,*  celebrated  for  the  elegance 
of  her  appearance  in  men's  clothes ;  Mrs.  Norris,  the  mother  of 
Jubilee  Dicky;  Mrs.  Holden,  daughter  of  a  bookseller  to  whom 
Betterton  had  been  bound  apprentice ;  and  Mrs.  Jennings  and 
Mrs.  Johnson,  both  taken  from  the  stage  by  gallants  of  the 
town, — the  former  but  little  known  as  an  actress,  the  latter 
celebrated  as  a  dancer  and  for  her  Carolina  in  Shadwell's 
comedy  of  Epsom  Wells. 

Such  were  the  performers  at  the  Duke's  House.  Anthony 
Leigh  and  Mrs.  Barry,  both  brought  out  at  the  same  theatre, 
were  accessions  after  Davenant's  death,  and,  as  I  see  reason  to 
believe,  after  Nell  Gwyn  had  ceased  to  be  connected  with  the 
stac^e. 

The  dresses  at  both  houses  were  magnificent  and  costly, 
but  little  or  no  attention  was  paid  to  costume.  The  King,  the 
Queen,  the  Duke,  and  several  of  the  richer  nobility,  gave  their 
coronation  suits  to  the  actors,  and  on  extraordinary  occasions 
a  play  was  equipped  at  the  expense  of  the  King.  Old  court 
dresses  were  contributed  by  the  gentry,  and  birthday  suits  con- 
tinued to  be  presented  as  late  as  the  reign  of  George  II.  The 
scenery  at  the  Duke's  House  was  superior  to  the  King's,  for 
Davenant,  who  introduced  the  opera  among  us,  introduced  us 

•  MS.  note  by  Isaac  Reed,  in  his  copy  of  Do\vnes's  Roscius  Anglicanus. 


THE    PLAYS    AT    THE    TWO    HOUSES.  II 

at  the  same  time  to  local  and  expensive  scenery.  Battles  were 
no  longer  represented 

With  four  or  five  most  vile  and  ragged  foils, 

or  coronations  by  a  crown  taken  from  a  deal  table  by  a  single 
attendant. 

The  old  stock  plays  were  divided  by  the  two  companies. 
Killigrew  had  Othello,  Julius  Caesar,  Henry  the  Fourth,  The 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  ;  four 
of  Ben  Jonson's  plays — The  Alchemist,  The  Fox,  The  Silent 
Woman,  and  Catiline ;  and  the  best  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's 
— A  King  and  No  King,  The  Humorous  Lieutenant,  Rule  a 
Wife  and  Have  a  Wife,  The  Maid's  Tragedy,  Rollo,  The  Elder 
Brother,  Philaster,  and  The  Scornful  Lady;  with  Massinger's 
Virgin  Martyr  and  Shirley's  Traitor.  Davenant  played  Ham- 
let, Lear,  Macbeth,  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Henry  the  Eighth, 
Twelfth  Night,  and  The  Tempest ;  Webster's  Duchess  of  Malfi 
and  Mad  Lover;  Middleton's  Young  Changeling;  Fletcher's 
Loyal  Subject  and  Mad  Lover ;  and  Massinger's  Bondman. 

The  new  plays  at  the  King's  House  were  contributed  by  Sir 
Robert  Howard,  Sir  Charles  Sedley,  Major  Porter,  Killigrew 
himself,  Dryden,  and  Nat  Lee :  at  the  Duke's  House  by  Dave- 
nant, Cowley,  Etherege,  Lord  Orrery,  and  others.  The  new 
tragedies  were  principally  in  rhyme.  At  the  first  performance 
of  a  new  comedy  ladies  seldom  attended,  or,  if  at  all,  in  masks 
— such  was  the  studied  indecency  of  the  art  of  that  period. 

The  wits  of  Charles  found  easier  ways  to  fame. 
Nor  wished  for  Jonson's  art  or  Shakspeare's  flame  ; 
Themselves  they  studied — as  they  felt  they  writ — 
Intrigue  was  plot,  obscenity  was  wit. 

The  performances  commenced  at  three.*     It  was  usual, 

*  Plays  began  at  one  in  Shakspeare's  time,  at  three  in  Dryden's,  at  four  in  Congreve's. 
In  i6g6  the  hour  was  four. 


12  THE    STORY    OF   NELL    CWTN. 

therefore,  to  dine  beforehand,  and  when  the  play  was  over  to 
adjourn  to  the  Mulberry  Garden,  to  Vauxhall,  or  some  other 
place  of  public  entertainment — 

Thither  run, 
Some  to  undo,  and  some  to  be  undone. 

The  prices  of  admission  were,  boxes  four  shillings,  pit  two-and- 
sixpence,  middle  gallery  eighteen-pence,  upper  gallery  one 
shilling.  The  ladies  in  the  pit  wore  vizards  or  masks.  The 
middle  gallery  was  long  the  favourite  resort  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Pepys. 

The  upper  gallery,  as  at  present,  was  attended  by  the  poor- 
est and  the  noisiest.  Servants  in  livery  were  admitted  as  soon 
as  the  fifth  act  commenced. 

With  the  orange-girls  (who  stood  as  we  have  seen  in 
the  pit  with  their  back  to  the  stage)  the  beaux  about  town 
were  accustomed  to  break  their  jests ;  "  and  that  the  language 
employed  was  not  of  the  most  delicate  description,  we  may 
gather  from  the  dialogue  of  Dorimant,  in  Etherege's  comedy  of 
Sir  Fopling  Flutter. 

The  mistress  or  superior  of  the  girls  was  familiarly  known 
as  Orange  Moll,  and  filled  the  same  sort  of  office  in  the  theatre 
that  the  mother  of  the  maids  occupied  at  court  among  the  maids 
of  honour.  Both  Sir  William  Penn  and  Pepys  would  occasion- 
ally have  "  a  great  deal  of  discourse  "  with  Orange  Moll ;  and 
Mrs.  Knep,  the  actress,  when  in  want  of  Pepys,  sent  Moll  to 
the  Clerk  of  the  Acts  with  the  welcome  messagfe.  To  hiorsfle 
about  the  price  of  the  fruit  was  thought  beneath  the  character 
of  a  gentleman.  "The  next  step,"  says  the  Young  Gallant's 
Academy,  "  is  to  give  a  turn  to  the  China  orange  wench,  and 
give  her  her  own  rate  for  her  oranges,  (for  'tis  below  a  gentle- 
man to  stand  haggling  like  a  citizen's  wife,)  and  then  to  present 

*  Prologue  to  Lord  Rochester's  Valentinian.     T.  Shadwell's  Works,  i.  199. 


PEPYS    AND    THE    ORANGE-WOMAN.  1 3 

the  fairest  to  the  next  vizard  mask."  *  Pepys,  when  challenged 
in  the  pit  for  the  price  of  twelve  oranges  which  the  orange- 
woman  said  he  owed  her,  but  which  he  says  was  wholly  untrue, 
was  not  content  with  denying  the  debt,  "  but  for  quiet  bought 
four  shillings'  worth  of  oranges  from  her  at  sixpence  a-piece."  f 
This  was  a  high  price,  but  the  Clerk  of  the  Acts  was  true  to 
the  directions  in  the  Gallant's  Academy. 

*  The  Young  Gallant's  Academy,  or  Directions  how  he  should  behave  in  all  places  and 
company.     By  Sam.  Overcome,  1674. 

f  Half-Crown  my  Play,  Sixpence  my  Orange  cost. 

Prologue  to  Mrs.  Bekn's  Young  King,  1698. 

Nor  furiously  laid  Orange- Wench  a-board 
For  asking  what  in  fruit  and  love  you'd  scor'd. 

Butler,  a  Panegyric  on  Sir  John  Denhavi. 

When  trading  grows  scant,  they  join  all  their  forces  together,  and  make  up  one  grand 
show,  and  admit  the  cut- purse  and  ballad-singer  to  trade  under  them,  as  orange-women  do  at 

■'  '  Butler,  Character  of  a  Jugler, 

Mr.  Vain. — I  can't  imagine  how  I  first  came  to  be  of  this  humour,  unless  'twere  hearing 

the  orange-wenches  talk  of  ladies  and  their  gallants.     So  I  began  to  think  I  had  no  way  of 

being  in  the  fashion,  but  bragging  of  mistresses. 

Hon.  James  Howard,  the  English  Monsieur,  p.  4,  ^to,  1674. 

Mrs.  Crafty. — This  life  of  mine  can  last  no  longer  than  my  beauty,  and  though  'tis 
pleasant  now,  I  want  nothing  whilst  I  am  Mr.  Welbred's  mistress, — yet,  if  his  mind  should 
change,  I  might  e'en  sell  oranges  for  my  living,  and  he  not  buy  one  of  me  to  relieve  me. 
Ibid.  /.ID. 

She  outdoes  a  playhouse  orange-woman  for  the  politick  management  of  a  bawdy  intrigue. 

Tunbridge  Wells,  a  Comedy,  t\to,  1678. 

In  former  times,  a  play  of  humour,  or  with  a  good  plot,  could  certainly  please  ;  but  now 
a  poet  must  find  out  a  third  way,  and  adapt  his  scenes  and  story  to  the  genius  of  the  critic,  if 
he'd  have  it  pass ;  he'll  have  nothing  to  do  with  your  dull  Spanish  plot,  for  whilst  he's  rallying 
\vith  the  orange-wench,  the  business  of  the  act  gets  quite  out  of  his  head,  and  then  'tis 
"Damme,  what  stuff's  this?"  he  sees  neither  head  nor  tail  to't. 

jy  Urfey,  Preface  to  tJu  Banditti,  4to,  16S6. 

The  noble  peer  may  to  the  play  repair. 
Court  the  pert  damsel  with  her  China-ware — 
Nay  marry  her — if  he  please — no  one  will  care. 

D' Urfey,  Prologue  to  a  Fool's  Preferment,  4to,  1 638. 
The  orange-miss  that  here  cajoles  the  Duke 
May  sell  her  rotten  ware  without  rebuke. 

D' Urfey,  Prologue  to  Don  Quixote,  Part  I.,  ^to,  1694. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Pepys  introduces  us  to  Nelly — Character  of  Pepys — Nelly  at  the  Duke's  Theatre — "Who 
was  Duncan? — Nell's  parts  as  Lady  Wealthy,  Enanthe,  and  Florimel — Charles  Hart 
— Nell's  lodgings  in  Drury  Lane — Description  of  Drury  Lane  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II. 
— The  May-pole  in  the  Strand — Nell  and  Lord  Buckhurst — Position  in  society  of  Actors 
and  Actresses — Character  of  Lord  Buckhurst — Nelly  at  Epsom. 

Our  earliest  introduction  to  Nell  Gwyn  we  owe  to  Pepys. 
This  precise  and  lively  diarist  (who  makes  us  live  in  his  own 
circle  of  amusements,  by  the  truth  and  quaintness  of  his 
descriptions),  was  a  constant  play-goer.  To  see  and  to  be 
seen,  when  the  work  of  his  office  was  over,  were  the  leading 
objects  of  his  thoughts.  Few  novelties  escaped  him,  for  he 
never  allowed  his  love  of  money  to  interfere  with  the  grati- 
fication of  his  wishes.  His  situation,  as  Clerk  of  the  Acts,  in 
the  Navy-office,  while  the  Duke  of  York  was  Lord  High 
Admiral,  gave  him  a  taste  for  the  entertainments  which  his 
master  enjoyed.  He  loved  to  be  found  wherever  the  King 
and  his  brother  were.  He  was  fond  of  music,  could  prick 
down  a  few  notes  for  himself,  and  when  his  portrait  was 
painted  by  Hales,  was  drawn  holding  in  his  hand  the  music 
which  he  had  composed  for  a  favourite  passage  in  the  Siege  of 
Rhodes.*  He  was  known  to  many  of  the  players,  and  often 
asked  them  to  dinner, — now  and  then  not  much  to  the  satis- 

*  This  hitherto  unengraved  portrait  was  bought  by  me  at  the  sale,  in  1S4S,  of  the  pict- 
ures, &c.,  of  the  family  of  Pepj-s  Cockerell.  It  was  called  by  the  auctioneer  "portrait  of  a 
Musician,"  but  is  unquestionably  the  picture  referred  to  by  Pepys  in  the  following  passages  of 
his  Diary  :  — 

"  1666,  March  17,  To  Hales's,  and  paid  him  /■14  for  the  picture  and  £:  ss.  for  the 
frame.     This  day  I  began  to  sit,  and  he  will  make  me,  I  think,  a  very  fine  picture.     He 


PEPYS    FIRST    SEES   NELLY.  1 5 

faction,  as  he  tells  us,  of  his  wife.  Mrs.  Knep,  of  the  King's 
House,  and  Joseph  Harris  of  the  Duke's  (to  both  of  whom  I 
have  already  introduced  the  reader)  were  two  of  his  especial 
favourites.  The  gossip  and  scandal  of  the  green-room  of 
Drury  Lane  and  Lincoln's-Inn-Fields  were  in  this  way  known 
to  him,  and  what  he  failed  to  obtain  behind  the  scenes  he 
would  learn  from  the  orange-women  of  both  houses. 

Nell  was  in  her  sixteenth,  and  Mr.  Pepys  in  his  thirty- 
fourth  year,  when,  on  Monday,  the  3rd  of  April,  1665,  they 
would  appear  to  have  seen  one  another  for  the  first  time. 
They  met  at  the  Duke's  Theatre  in  Lincoln's-Inn-Fields  dur- 
ing the  performance  of  Mustapha,  a  tragedy,  by  the  Earl  of 
Orrery,  in  which  Betterton  played  the  part  of  Solyman,  Harris 
that  of  Mustapha,  and  Mrs.  or  Miss  Davis  that  of  the  Queen 
of  Hungaria.  Great  care  had  been  taken  to  produce  this  now 
long-forgotten  tragedy  with  the  utmost  magnificence.  All  the 
parts  were  newly  clothed,  and  new  scenes  had  been  painted 
expressly  for  it.  Yet  we  are  told  by  Pepys  that  "  all  the 
pleasure  of  the  play"  was  in  the  circumstance  that  the  King 
and  my  Lady  Castlemaine  were  there,  and  that  he  sat  next  to 
"pretty  witty  Nell  at  the  King's  House"  and  to  the  younger 
Marshall,  another  actress  at  the  same  theatre — a  circumstance, 
he  adds,  with  his  usual  quaint  honesty  of  remark,  "which  pleased 
me  mightily."  Yet  the  play  was  a  good  one  in  Pepys's  eyes. 
Nine  months  later  he  calls  it  "a  most  excellent  play;"  and 
when  he  saw  it  again,  after  an  interval  of  more  than  two  years, 

promises  it  shall  be  as  good  as  my  wife's,  and  I  sit  to  have  it  full  of  shadows,  and  do  almost 
break  my  neck  looking  over  my  shoulder  to  make  the  posture  for  him  to  v.ork  by. 

"  March  30.  To  Hales's  and  there  sat  till  almost  quite  dark  upon  working  my  gowne, 
which  I  hired  to  be  drawn  in  ;  an  Indian  gowne. 

"  April  II.  To  Hales's,  where  there  was  nothing  found  to  be  done  more  to  my  picture, 
but  the  musique,  which  now  pleases  me  mightily,  it  being  painted  true." 

See  also  The  Athenoeum  for  1S4S.  Lord  Eraybrooke  (Pepys,  vol.  iii.  p.  17S)  doubts  the 
likeness,  but  admits  that  the  portrait  answers  the  description. 


1 6  THE    STORY    OF   NELL    G"\VYN. 

he  describes  it  as  one  he  Hked  better  the  more  he  saw  it :  — "a 
most  admirable  poem  and  bravely  acted."  *  His  after  entries 
therefore  more  than  confirm  the  truth  of  his  earlier  impressions. 
The  real  pleasure  of  the  play,  however,  was  that  he  sat  by  the 
side  of  "pretty  witty  Nell,"  whose  foot  has  been  described  as 
the  least  of  any  woman's  in  England,f  and  to  Rebecca  Mar- 
shall, whose  handsome  hand  he  has  carefully  noted  in  another 
entry  in  his  Diary.  The  small  feet  peeping  occasionally  from 
beneath  a  petticoat,  and  the  handsome  hands  raised  now  and 
then  to  check  a  vagrant  curl,  must  have  held  the  Clerk  of  the 
Acts  in  a  continual  state  of  torture. 

There  was  a  novelty  that  night  which  had  doubtless  drawn 
Nell  and  old  Stephen  Marshall's  younger  daughter  to  the  pit 
of  Lincoln's-Inn-Fields.  Mrs.  Betterton  was  playing  Roxolana 
in  place  of  the  elder  Davenport,  and  Moll  Davis  had  begun  to 
attract  the  notice  of  some  of  the  courtiers,  and,  as  it  was  whis- 
pered, of  the  King  himself  The  old  Roxolana  had  become 
the  mistress  of  the  twentieth  and  last  Earl  of  the  ofreat  race 
of  Vere ;  and  Nell — while  she  reflected  on  what  she  may  have 
thought  to  have  been  the  good  fortune  of  her  fellow  actress — 
might  have  had  her  envy  appeased  could  she  have  foreseen 
that  she  should  give  birth  to  a  son  (the  mother  an  orange- 
girl,  the  father  the  King  of  England)  destined  to  obtain  a 
dukedom  in  her  own  lifetime,  and  afterwards  to  marry  the 
heiress  of  the  very  earl  who  had  taken  the  old  Roxolana  from 
a  rival  stage — first  to  deceive  and  afterwards  to  desert  her. 

Nell  was  indebted,  there  is  reason  to  believe,  for  her  intro- 
duction to  the  stage,  or  at  least  to  another  condition  in  life,  to 
a  person  whose  name  is  variously  written  as  Duncan  and  as 
Dungan.  Oldys,  who  calls  him  Duncan,  had  heard  that  he  was 
a  merchant,  and  that  he  had  taken  a  fancy  to  her  from  her  smart 
wit,  fine  shape,  and  the  smallness  of  her  feet.     The  information 

*  Pcpys.  Sept.  4,  1667.  f  Oldys  in  Curll's  History  of  the  St^^e,  p.  iii. 


INQUIRY    ABOUT    DUNCAN.  I  7 

of  Oldys  is  confirmed  by  the  satire  of  Etherege,  who  adds, 
much  to  the  credit  of  Nelly,  that  she  remembered  in  after  years 
the  friend  of  her  youth,  and  that  to  her  interest  it  was  he  owed 
his  appointment  in  the  Guards.  To  sift  and  exhibit  the  equal 
mixture  of  truth  and  error  in  these  accounts  would  not  repay 
the  reader  for  the  trouble  I  should  occasion  him.  I  have  sifted 
them  myself,  and  see  reason  to  believe  that  Oldys  was  wrong 
in  calling  him  a  merchant;  while  I  suspect  that  the  Duncan 
commemorated  by  Etherege,  in  his  satire  upon  Nelly,  was  the 
Dongan  described  by  De  Grammont  as  a  gentleman  of  merit 
who  succeeded  Duras,  afterwards  Earl  of  Feversham,  in  the 
post  of  Lieutenant  in  the  Duke's  Life  Guards.  That  there 
was  a  lieutenant  of  this  name  in  the  Duke's  Life  Guards  I 
have  ascertained  from  official  documents.  He  was  a  cadet  of 
the  house  of  Limerick,  and  his  Christian  name  was  Robert. 
If  there  is  truth  in  De  Grammont's  account,  he  died  in  or 
before  1669.  A  Colonel  Dungan  was  Governor  of  New  York 
in  the  reign  of  James  II.* 

Such,  then,  is  all  that  can  be  ascertained,  after  full  inquiry, 
of  this  Duncan  or  Dungan,  by  whom  Nelly  is  said  to  have 
been  lifted  from  her  very  humble  condition  in  life.  Such 
indeed  is  the  whole  of  the  information  I  have  been  able  to 
obtain  about  "pretty  witty  Nell"  from  her  birth  to  the  winter 
of  1666,  when  we  again  hear  of  her  through  the  indefati- 
gable Pepys.  How  her  life  was  passed  during  the  fearful 
Plague  season  of  1665,  or  where  she  was  during  the  Great 
Fire  of  London  in  the  following  year,  it  is  now  useless  to  con- 
jecture. The  transition  from  the  orange-girl  to  the  actress 
may  easily  be  imagined  without  the  intervention  of  any  Mr. 
Dungan.  The  pert  vivacity  and  ready  wit  she  exhibited  in 
later  life,  must  have  received  early  encouragement  and  culti- 

*  Secret  Service  Expenses  of  Charles  II.  and  James  II.,  p.  195.     There  is  in  one  of 
Etherege's  MS.  satires  a  very  coarse  allusion  to  Dungan  and  Nelly. 


1 8  THE    STORY    OF   NELL    GWYN. 

vation  from  the  warmth  of  language  the  men  of  sort  and 
quality  employed  in  speaking  to  all  classes  of  females.  This 
very  readiness  was  her  recommendation  to  Killigrew,  to  say 
nothing  of  her  beauty  or  the  merry  laugh,  which  is  said  in 
after  life  to  have  pervaded  her  face  till  her  eyes  were  almost 
invisible.* 

As  we  owe  our  first  introduction  to  Nelly  to  the  Clerk  of 
the  Acts,  so  to  him  are  we  indebted  for  the  earliest  notice  yet 
discovered  of  her  appearance  on  the  stage.  Her  part  was  that 
of  the  principal  female  character  in  a  comedy  (The  English 
Monsieur)  by  the  Hon.  James  Howard,  a  son  of  the  Earl  of 
Berkshire,  the  brother-in-law  of  Dryden,  and  brother  of  Philip, 
an  officer  of  the  King's  Guards,  and  of  Robert  and  Edward 
Howard,  both  also  writers  for  the  stage.  But  these,  as  we 
shall  see  hereafter,  were  not  the  only  connexions  with  the 
stage  of  the  Berkshire  Howards.  There  is  not  much  story  in 
the  English  Monsieur,  much  force  of  character,  or  any  particu- 
lar vivacity  in  the  dialogue.  It  is,  however,  very  easy  to  see 
that  the  situations  must  have  told  with  the  audience  for  whom 
they  were  intended,  and  that  the  part  of  Lady  Wealthy  was 
one  particularly  adapted  to  the  genius  of  Nell  Gwyn ;  a  part, 
in  all  probability  written  expressly  for  her.  Lady  Wealthy 
is  a  rich  widow,  with  perfect  knowledge  of  the  importance  of 
wealth  and  beauty,  a  good  heart,  and  a  fine  full  vein  of  humour, 
a  woman,  in  short,  that  teases,  and  at  last  reforms  and  marries, 
the  lover  she  is  true  to.  The  humour  of  the  following  dialogue 
will  allow  the  reader  to  imagine  much  of  the  bye-play  con- 
ducive to  its  success. 

Lady  Wealthy. — When  will  I  marry  you  1    "When  will  I  love  ye,  you  should 
ask  first. 

Welbred.—\i\vy  !  don't  ye  ? 
Lady  W. — Why,  do  I  ?     Did  you  ever  hear  me  say  I  did  ? 

*The  London  Chronicle,  for  Aug.  15 — 18,  1778  ;  Waldron's  Downes,  p.  19. 


PARTS  PLAYED  BY  NELLY.  1 9 

Welbred. — I  never  heard  you  say  you  did  not. 

Lady  W. — I'll  say  so  now,  then,  if  you  long. 

Welbred. — By  no  means.  Say  not  a  thing  in  haste  you  may  repent  at 
leisure. 

Lady  W. — Come,  leave  your  fooling,  or  I'll  swear  it. 

Welbred. — Don't,  widow,  for  then  you'll  lie  too. 

Lady  W. — Indeed  it  seems  'tis  for  my  money  you  would  have  me. 

Welbred. — For  that,  and  something  else  you  have. 

Lady  W. — ^Well,  I'll  lay  a  wager  thou  hast  lost  all  thy  money  at  play,  for 
then  you're  always  in  a  marrying  humour.  But,  d'ye  hear,  gentleman,  d'ye 
think  to  gain  me  with  this  careless  way,  or  that  I  will  marry  one  I  don't  think 
is  in  love  ^vith  me  ? 

Welbred. — ^Why,  I  am. 

Lady  W. — Then  you  would  not  be  so  merry.  People  in  love  are  sad, 
and  many  times  weep. 

Welbred. — That  will  never  do  for  thee,  widow. 

Lady  W. — And  why  ? 

Welbred. — 'Twould  argue  me  a  child  ;  and  I  am  confident  if  thou  didst  not 
verily  believe  I  were  a  man,  I  should  ne'er  be  thy  husband.  ....  Weep  for 
thee  ! — ha  !  ha  !  ha ! — if  e'er  I  do  ! 

Lady  W. — Go,  hang  yourself. 

Welbred. — Thank  you,  for  your  advice. 

Lady  W. — ^When,  then,  shall  I  see  you  again  ? 

Welbred. — When  I  have  a  mind  to  it.  Come,  I'll  lead  you  to  your  coach 
for  once. 

Lady  W. — And  I'll  let  you  for  once.  [Exeunt. 

Pepys,  who  saw  it  on  the  8th  Dec,  1666,  commends  it 
highly.  "  To  the  King's  House,  and  there,"  his  entry  runs, 
"did  see  a  good  part  of  the  EngHsh  Monsieur,  which  is  a 
mighty  pretty  play,  very  witty  and  pleasant.  And  the  women 
do  very  well ;  but  above  all,  little  Nelly ;  that  I  am  mightily 
pleased  with  the  play,  and  much  with  the  house,  the  women 
doing  better  than  I  expected  ;  and  very  fair  women."  Nor  was 
his  admiration  abated  when  he  saw  it  many  months  afterwards, 
7th  April,  1668,  at  the  same  house. 

Nell's  success  on   the  staqfe  was   such  that  she  was  soon 


20  THE    STORY    OF   NELL    GWYN. 

called  to  represent  prominent  parts  in  the  stock  plays  of  her 
company.  What  these  parts  were,  is,  I  believe,  with  very  few 
exceptions,  altogether  unknown.  One  part,  however,  has 
reached  us — that  of  Enanthe,  or  Celia,  in  the  Humourous 
Lieutenant  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  a  play  that  was  long 
a  favourite  with  the  public — continuing  to  be  frequently  acted, 
and  always  with  applause,  throughout  the  reign  of  Charles  II. 
The  wit  and  fine  poetry  of  the  part  of  Celia  are  known  to  the 
readers  of  our  English  drama,  nor  is  it  difficult  to  conceive  how 
effectively  language  like  the  following  must  have  come  from 
the  lips  of  Nell  Gwyn.  She  is  in  poor  attire  amid  a  mob, 
when  she  sees  the  Kincr's  son  :  — 

o 

Was  it  the  prince  they  said  ?     How  my  heart  trembles  ! 

[Efi/er  Demetrius,  with  a  javelin  in  his  hand. 
'Tis  he  indeed  :  what  a  sweet  noble  fierceness 
Dwells  in  his  eyes  !     Young  Meleager-like, 
When  he  returned  from  slaughter  of  the  boar, 
Crown'd  with  the  loves  and  honours  of  the  people, 
With  all  the  gallant  youth  of  Greece,  he  looks  now — 
Who  could  deny  him  love  ? 

On  one  occasion  of  its  performance  Pepys  was  present,  and 
though  he  calls  it  a  silly  play,  his  reader  smiles  at  his  bad 
taste,  while  he  is  grateful  for  the  information  that  when  the 
play  was  over  he  had  gone  with  his  wife  behind  the  scenes, 
through  the  introduction  of  Mrs.  Knep,  who  "brought  to  us 
Nelly,  a  most  pretty  woman,  who  acted  the  great  part  of  Celia 
to-day  very  fine,  and  did  it  pretty  well.  I  kissed  her,  and  so 
did  my  wife,  and  a  mighty  pretty  soul  she  is."  Nor  was  his 
chronicle  of  the  day  concluded  without  a  fresh  expression  of 
pleasure  at  what  he  had  seen,  summing  up  all  as  he  does 
with  the  satisfactory  words  "specially  kissing  of  Nell."  *     The 

*  Pepys,  Jan.  23,  1666-7.     Mr.  Augustus  Egg,  A.R.A.,  has  painted  a  clever  picture 
from  this  passage. 


PLAYS    FLORIMEL   IN    DRYDENS   NEW    PLAY.  21 

remark  of  Walter  Scott  will  occur  to  many,  "  it  is  just  as  well 
that  Mrs.  Pepys  was  present  on  this  occasion." 

Her  skill  increasing  with  her  years,  other  poets  sought  to 
obtain  the  recommendations  of  her  wit  and  beauty  to  the 
success  of  their  writings.  I  have  said  that  Dryden  was 
one  of  the  principal  supporters  of  the  King's  House,  and 
ere  long  in  one  of  his  new  plays  a  principal  character  was 
set  apart  for  the  popular  comedian.  The  drama  was  a  tragi- 
comedy called  "Secret  Love,  or,  the  Maiden  Queen"  and  an 
additional  interest  was  attached  to  its  production,  from  the 
King  having  suggested  the  plot  to  its  author,  and  calling  it 
"  his  play."  The  dramatis  personae  consist,  curiously  enough, 
of  eight  female,  and  only  three  male  parts.  Good  acting  was 
not  wanting  to  forward  its  success.  Mohun,  Hart,  and  Burt, 
three  of  the  best  performers  then  on  the  stage,  filled  the  only 
male  parts — while  Mrs.  Marshall,  Mrs.  Knep,  "  Mrs.  Eleanor 
Gwyn,"  and  Mrs.  Corey,  sustained  the  principal  female  char- 
acters. The  tragic  scenes  have  little  to  recommend  them; 
but  the  reputation  of  the  piece  was  thought  to  have  been 
redeemed  by  the  excellence  of  the  alloy  of  comedy,  as  Dry- 
den calls  it,  in  which  it  was  generally  agreed  he  was  seldom 
happier.  Even  here,  however,  his  dialogue  wants  that  easy, 
brisk,  pert  character  which  Congreve,  Vanbrugh,  and  Far- 
quhar  afterwards  brought  to  such  inimitable  perfection,  and 
of  which  Etherege  alone  affords  a  satisfactory  example  in  the 
reign  of  Charles  II. 

The  first  afternoon  of  the  new  play  was  the  2nd  of  Febru- 
ary, 1666-7.  The  King  and  the  Duke  of  York  were  both 
present: — so  too  were  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pepys,  who  had 
heard  the  play  mightily  commended  for  the  regularity  of  its 
story,  and  what  Mr.  Pepys  is  pleased  to  call  "the  strain  and 
wit."  The  chief  parts  (its  author  tells  us)  were  performed  to  a 
height  of  great  excellence,  both  serious  and  comic ;  and  it  was 


22  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

well  received.  The  King  objected,  indeed,  to  the  manage- 
ment of  the  last  scene,  where  Celadon  and  Florimel  (Hart  and 
Nelly)  are  treating  too  lightly  of  their  marriage  in  the  presence 
of  the  Queen.  But  Pepys  would  not  appear  to  have  seen  any 
defect  of  this  description.  "  The  truth  is,"  he  says,  "  there  is  a 
comical  part  done  by  Nell,  which  is  Florimel,  that  I  never  can 

hope  ever  to  see  the  like  done  again  by  man  or  woman 

So  great  performance  of  a  comical  part  was  never  I  believe  in 
the  world  before  as  Nell  do  this,  both  as  a  mad  girl,  then  most 
and  best  of  all  when  she  comes  in  like  a  young  gallant,  and 
hath  the  motion  and  carriage  of  a  spark  the  most  that  ever  I 
saw  any  man  have.  It  makes  me,  I  confess,  admire  her."  Nor 
did  the  worthy  critic  change  his  opinion.  He  calls  it,  after  his 
second  visit,  an  "excellent  play,  and  so  done  by  Nell  her 
merry  part  as  cannot  be  better  done  in  nature."'"'  While  after 
his  third  visit  he  observes  that  it  is  impossible  to  have  Flori- 
mel's  part,  which  is  the  most  comical  that  ever  was  made  for 
woman,  ever  done  better  than  it  is  by  Nelly,  f 

The  support  of  the  performance  rested,  it  must  be  owned, 
on  Hart's  character  of  Celadon  and  on  Nelly's  part  of  Florimel. 
Nell  indeed  had  to  sustain  the  heavier  burden  of  the  piece. 
She  is  seldom  off  the  staofe — all  the  loose  rattle  of  dialogue 
belongs  to  her,  nay  more,  she  appears  in  the  fifth  act  in  male 
attire,  dances  a  jig  in  the  same  act,  often  of  itself  sufficient  to 
save  a  play,  and  ultimately  speaks  the  epilogue  in  defence  of 
the  author; 

I  left  my  client  yonder  in  a  rant 

Against  the  envious  and  the  ignorant, 

Who  are  he  says  his  only  enemies  ; 

But  he  contemns  their  malice,  and  defies 

The  sharpest  of  his  censurers  to  say 

Where  there  is  one  gross  fault  in  all  his  play, 

*  Pepys,  March  25,  16C7.  f  Pepys,  May  24,  1667. 


GOOD    AS    FLORIMEU  23 

The  language  is  so  fitted  to  each  part, 
The  plot  according  to  the  rules  of  art ; 
And  twenty  other  things  he  bid  me  tell  you, 
But  I  cry'd  "  E'en  go  do't  yourself,  for  Nelly  !  " 

There  are  incidents  and  allusions  in  the  parts  of  Celadon 
and  Florimel  which  must  have  carried  a  personal  application 
to  those  who  were,  speaking  technically,  behind  the  scenes. 
Nelly,  If  not  actually  the  mistress  at  this  time  of  Charles  Hart, 
was  certainly  looked  upon  by  many  as  very  little  less.  Their 
marriage  in  the  play  is  more  of  a  Fleet  or  May  Fair  mockery 
than  a  religious  ceremony, — as  if,  to  use  Florimel's  own  lan- 
guage, they  were  married  by  the  more  agreeable  names  of 
mistress  and  gallant,  rather  than  those  dull  old-fashioned  ones 
of  husband  and  wife. 

Florimel,  it  appears  to  me,  must  have  been  Nelly's  chef 
d'cetrure  in  her  art.  I  can  hear  her  exclaiming  with  a  prophetic 
feeling  of  its  truth,  *T  am  resolved  to  grow  fat  and  look  young 
till  forty,  and  then  slip  out  of  the  world  with  the  first  wrinkle 
and  the  reputation  of  five-and-twenty ;  "  while  I  can  picture 
to  myself,  as  my  readers  will  easily  do,  Nelly  in  boy's  clothes, 
dressed  to  the  admiration  of  Etherege  and  Sedley,  scanned 
from  head  to  foot  with  much  surprise  by  Mr.  Pepys  and  Sir 
William  Penn,  viewed  with  other  feelings  by  Lord  Buckhurst 
on  one  side  of  the  house,  and  by  the  King  himself  on  the  other, 
while  to  the  admiration  of  the  author,  and  of  the  whole  audience, 
she  exclaims,  with  wonderful  bye-play,  "  Yonder  they  are,  and 
this  way  they  must  come.  If  clothes  and  a  bonne  mien  will 
take  'm  I  shall  do't. — Save  you.  Monsieur  Florimel !  Faith, 
methinks  you  are  a  very  janty  fellow,  poudre  et  ajuste  as  well 
as  the  best  of  'em.  I  can  manage  the  little  comb — set  my  hat, 
shake  my  garniture,  toss  about  my  empty  noddle,  walk  with 
a  courant  slur,  and  at  every  step  peck  down  my  head : — if  I 
should  be  mistaken  for  some  courtier,  now,  pray  where's  the 


24  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

difference?"  This  was  what  Beau  Hewit  or  Beau  Fielding 
were  enacting  every  day  in  their  lives,  and  Colley  Gibber  lived 
to  be  the  last  actor  who  either  felt  or  could  make  others  feel  its 
truth  and  application. 

Nelly  was  living  at  this  time  in  the  fashionable  part  of 
Drury  Lane,  the  Strand  or  Covent  Garden  end,  for  Drury 
Lane  in  the  days  of  Gharles  II.  was  inhabited  by  a  very  differ- 
ent class  of  people  from  those  who  now  occupy  it — or,  indeed, 
who  have  lived  in  it  since  the  time  Gay  guarded  us  from 
"  Drury 's  mazy  courts  and  dark  abodes"  —  since  Pope  de- 
scribed it  only  too  truly  as  peopled  by  drabs  of  the  lowest 
character, and  by  authors  "lulled  by  soft  zephyrs,"  through  the 
broken  pane  of  a  garret  window.  The  upper  end,  towards  St. 
Giles's  Pound  and  Montague  House,  had  its  squalid  quarters, 
like  Lewknor  Lane  and  the  Coal  Yard,  in  which,  as  we  have 
concluded,  our  Nelly  was  born ;  but  at  the  Strand  end  lived 
the  Earl  of  Anglesey,  long  Lord  Privy  Seal,  and  the  Earls  of 
Clare  and  Craven,  whose  names  are  still  perpetuated  in  Clare 
Market  and  Craven  Yard.  Drury  Lane,  when  Nelly  was  living 
there,  was  a  kind  of  Park  Lane  of  the  present  day,  made  up  of 
noblemen's  mansions,  small  houses,  inns  and  stable-yards.  Nor 
need  the  similitude  be  thus  restricted ;  for  the  Piazza  of  Covent 
Garden  was  then  to  Drury  Lane  what  Grosvenor  Square  is  at 
present  to  Park  Lane.  Squalid  quarters  indeed  have  always 
been  near  neighbours  to  lordly  localities.  When  Nelly  lodged 
in  Drury  Lane,  Covent  Garden  had  its  Lewknor  Lane,  and 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  their  Whetstone  Park.  Belgravia  has 
now  its  Tothill  Street — Portman  Square  has  its  contaminating 
neighbourhood  of  Calmel  Buildings — and  one  of  the  most  infa- 
mous of  alleys  is  within  half  a  stone's  throw  of  St.  James's 
Palace  !  Nelly's  lodgings  were  near  the  lodgings  of  Lacy  the 
actor,  at  the  top  of  Maypole  Alley, 

Where  Drury  Lane  descends  into  the  Strand, 


THE    MAYPOLE    IN    THE    STRAND.  2$ 

and  over  against  the  gate  of  Craven  House.  The  look-out 
afforded  a  peep  into  a  part  of  Wych  Street,  and  while  stand- 
ing at  the  doorway  you  could  see  the  far-famed  Maypole  in 
the  Strand,  at  the  bottom  of  the  alley  to  which  it  had  lent  its 
name. 

This  Maypole,  long  a  conspicuous  ornament  to  the  west- 
end  of  London,  rose  to  a  great  height  above  the  surrounding 
houses,  and  was  surmounted  by  a  crown  and  vane,  with  the 
royal  arms  richly  gilded.  It  had  been  set  up  again  immedi- 
ately after  the  Restoration.  Great  ceremonies  attended  its 
erection :  twelve  picked  seamen  superintending  the  tackle,  and 
ancient  people  clapping  their  hands  and  exclaiming,  "Golden 
days  begin  to  appear ! "  Nelly  must  have  remembered  the 
erection  of  the  Maypole  at  the  bottom  of  the  lane  in  which 
she  was  born ;  but  there  is  little  save  some  gable-ends  and  old 
timber-froiiJ'near  her  "lodgings-door"  to  assist  in  carrying 
the  mind  back  to  the  days  of  the  Maypole  and  the  merry  mon 
arch  whose  recall  it  was  designed  to  commemorate. 

Among  the  many  little  domestic  incidents  perpetuated  by 
Pepys,  there  are  few  to  which  I  would  soonerhave  been  a  wit- 
ness than  the  picture  he  has  left  us  of  Nelly  standing  at  her 
door  watching  the  milkmaids  on  May-day.  The  Clerk  of  the 
Acts  on  his  way  from  Seething  Lane  in  the  City,  met,  he  tells 
us,  "  many  milkmaids  with  garlands  upon  their  pails,  dancing 
with  a  fiddle  before  them,"  and  saw  pretty  Nelly  standing  at 
her  lodgings-door  in  Drury  Lane  in  her  smock  sleeves  and 
bodice  looking  upon  one.  "  She  seemed,"  he  adds,  "a  mighty 
pretty  creature."  This  was  in  1667,  while  her  recent  triumphs 
on  the  stage  were  still  fresh  at  Court,  and  the  obscurity  of  her 
birth  was  a  common  topic  of  talk  and  banter  among  the  less 
fortunate  inhabitants  of  the  lane  she  lived  in.  The  scene  so 
lightly  sketched  by  Pepys  might  furnish  no  unfitting  subject  for 
the  pencil  of  Leslie  or  Maclise — a  subject  indeed  which  would 


26  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

shine  in  their  hands.  That  absence  of  all  false  pride,  that  in- 
nate love  of  unaffected  nature,  and  that  fondness  for  the  simple 
sports  of  the  people  which  the  incident  exhibits  are  charac- 
teristics of  Nelly  from  the  first  moment  to  the  last — following 
her  naturally,  and  sitting  alike  easily  and  gracefully  upon  her, 
whether  at  her  humble  lodgings  in  Drury  Lane,  at  her  hand- 
some house  in  Pall  Mall,  or  even  under  the  gorgeous  cornices 
of  Whitehall. 

But  I  have  no  intention  of  finding  a  model  heroine  in  a 
coal-yard,  or  any  wish  either  to  palliate  or  condemn  too  severely 
the  frailties  of  the  woman  whose  stor}'  I  have  attempted  to 
relate.     It  was  therefore  within  a  very  few  months  of  the  May- 
day scene  I  have  just  described,  that  whispers  asserted,  and 
the  news  was  soon  published  in  every  coffee-house  in  London, 
how  little  Miss  Davis  of  the  Duke's  House  had  become  the 
mistress  of  the  King,  and  Nell  Gwyn  at  the  other  theatre  the 
mistress  of  Lord    Buckhurst.     Whoever   is  at  all   conversant 
with  the  manners  and  customs  of  London  life  in  the  reign  of 
Charles   II.  will  confirm   me  in  the  statement  that  two  such 
announcements,  even  at  the  same  time,  would  cause  but  little 
surprise,  or  indeed  any  other  feeling  than  that  of  envy  at  their 
good  luck.     With  the  single  exception  of  Mrs.  Betterton,  there 
was   not,  I  believe,  an  actress  at  either  theatre  who  had  not 
been  or  was  not  then  the  mistress  of  some  person  about  the 
Court     Actors  were  looked  upon  as  little  better  than  shopmen 
or  servants.      When  the   Honourable    Edward   Howard  was 
struck  by  Lacy  of  the  King's   House,  a  very  general  feeling 
prevailed  that  Howard  should  have  run  his  sword  through  the 
menial  body  of  the  actor.     Nor  was   this   feeling  altogether 
extinguished  till  the  period  of  the  Kembles.     It  was  entirely 
owing  to  the  exertions  of  the  great  Lord  Mansfield,  that  Arthur 
Murphy,  less  than   a  century  ago,   was  allowed  to   enter  his 
name  on  the  books  of  Lincoln's  Inn.     He  had  been  previously 


SOCIAL   CONDITION    OF   PLAYERS.  IJ 

refused  by  the  Benchers  of  the  Middle  Temple^  for  no  other 
reason  than  that  he  had  been  an  actor.  Nay,  George  Selwyn, 
it  is  well  known,  excluded  Brinsley  Sheridan  from  Brooks's  on 
three  occasions  because  his  father  had  been  upon  the  stage. 

Nor  did  actresses  fare  better  than  actors.  If  anything,  in- 
deed, they  were  still  worse  treated.  They  were  looked  upon 
as  women  of  the  worst  character,  possessed  of  no  inclination  or 
inducement  to  virtue.  Few,  indeed,  were  found  to  share  the 
sentiment  expressed  by  one  of  Shadwell's  manliest  characters, 
**  I  love  the  stage  too  well  to  keep  any  of  their  women,  to  make 
'em  proud  and  insolent  and  despise  that  calling  to  take  up  a 
worse."  The  frailty  of  "playhouse  flesh  and  blood"'"''  afforded 
a  common  topic  for  the  poet  in  his  prologue  or  his  epilogue, 
and  other  writers  than  Lee  might  be  found  who  complain  of 
the  practice  of  "keeping"  as  a  grievance  to  the  stage.f  Dave- 
nant,  foreseeing  their  fate  from  an  absence  of  any  control, 
boarded  his  four  principal  actresses  in  his  own  house ;  but, 
with  one  exception  (that  of  Mrs.  Betterton  before  referred 
to),  the  precaution  was  altogether  without  effect.  The  King, 
Prince  Rupert,  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  the  Earl  of  Oxford, 
Lord  Buckhurst,  Sir  Charles  Sedley,  Sir  Philip  Howard,  his 
brother  Sir  Robert  Howard,  were  all  successful  in  the  arts  of 
seduction  or  inducement.  So  bad  indeed  was  the  moral  disci- 
pline of  the  times,  that  even  Mrs.  Knep,  loose  as  were  her 
notions  of  virtue,  could  see  the  necessity  of  parting  with  a 
pretty  servant  girl,  as  the  tiring-room  was  no  place  for  the 
preservation  of  her  innocence.  J  The  virtuous  life  of  Mrs. 
Bracegirdle,  and  her  spirited  rebuke  to  the  Earl  of  Burling- 
ton, stand  out  in  noble  relief  from  the  conduct  of  her  fellow 
actresses.  The  Earl  had  sent  her  a  letter,  and  a  present  of  a 
handsome  set  of  china.      The  charming  actress  retained  the 

*  Dryden's  Prologue  to  Marriage  a  la  Mode.  f  Epilogue  to  The  Rival  Queens. 

X  Pepys,  April  7,  i66S. 


28  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

letter  and  informed  the  servant  of  the  mistake.  The  letter, 
she  said,  was  for  her,  but  the  china  was  for  Lady  Burlington. 
When  the  Earl  returned  home  he  found  his  Countess  all  happi- 
ness at  the  unexpected  present  from  her  husband.* 

Times,  however,  changed  after  Nelly  had  gone,  and  the  Stu- 
arts had  ceased  to  reisfn,  for  ennobled  actresses  are  now  com- 
mon  enough  in  the  English  peerage.  Other  changes  too  took 
place.  Mrs.  Barry  walked  home  in  her  clogs,  and  Mrs.  Brace- 
girdle  in  her  pattens ;  but  Mrs.  Oldfield  went  away  in  her 
chair,t  and  Lavinia  Felton  (the  original  Polly  Peachum)  rolled 
westward  in  her  coroneted  carriage  as  Duchess  of  Bolton.  % 

It  says  little  for  the  morality  of  London  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  II.,  but  something  for  the  taste  of  the  humble  orange- 
girl,  that  the  lover  who  had  attracted  her,  and  with  whom  she 
was  now  living  in  the  lovely  neighbourhood  of  Epsom,  was 
long  looked  up  to  as  the  best  bred  man  of  his  age : 

None  ever  had  so  strange  an  art 

His  passion  to  convey 
Into  a  list'ning  virgin's  heart, 

And  steal  her  soul  away.§ 

But  Buckhurst  had  other  qualities  to  recommend  him  than  his 
youth  (he  was  thirty  at  this  time),  his  rank,  his  good  heart,  and 
his  good  breeding.  He  had  already  distinguished  himself  by 
his  personal  intrepidity  in  the  war  against  the  Dutch  ;  had 
written  the  best  song  of  its  kind  in  the  English  language,  and 
some  of  the  severest  and  most  refined  satires  we  possess ;  was 
the  friend  of  all  the  poets  of  eminence  in  his  time,  as  he  was 

*Walpole  to  Mann,  (Mann  Letters,)  iii.  254.  f  Walpole,  May  26,  1742. 

X  Mr.  Murray,  of  Albemarle  Street,  possesses  Hogarth's  interesting  picture  of  the  first 
representation  of  the  Beggar's  Opera,  in  its  original  frame.  Here  his  Grace  of  Bolton  is 
gazing  upon  Polly  from  one  stage-box — while  in  the  other,  Eolingbroke  is  seated  by  Lady 
Mary  Wortley  Montagu. 

§  Song  by  Sir  C.  S.  [Sir  Carr  Scroopc  or  Sir  Charles  Sedley]  in  Etherege's  Man  of  Mode, 
or  Sir  Fopling  Flutter. 


SACKVILLE,    LORD    BUCKHURST.  29 

afterwards  the  most  munificent  patron  of  men  of  genius  that 
this  country  has  yet  seen.  The  most  eminent  masters  in  their 
several  lines  asked  and  abided  by  his  judgment,  and  afterwards 
dedicated  their  works  to  him  in  grateful  acknowledgment 
of  his  taste  and  favours.  Butler  owed  to  him  that  the  Court 
"tasted"  his  Hudibras;  Wycherley  that  the  town  "liked"  his 
Plain  Dealer ;  and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  deferred  to  pub- 
lish his  Rehearsal  till  he  was  sure,  as  he  expressed  it,  that  my 
Lord  Buckhurst  would  not  "rehearse"  upon  him  again.  Nor 
was  this  all.  His  table  was  one  of  the  last  that  gave  us  an 
example  of  the  old  housekeeping  of  an  English  nobleman.  A 
freedom  reigned  about  it  which  made  every  one  of  the  guests 
think  himself  at  home,  and  an  abundance  which  showed  that 
the  master's  hospitality  extended  to  many  more  than  those 
who  had  the  honour  to  sit  at  table  with  himself.*  Nor  has 
he  been  less  happy  after  death.  Pope  wrote  his  epitaph  and 
Prior  his  panegyric — while  Walpole  and  Macaulay  (two  men 
with  so  little  apparently  in  common)  have  drawn  his  character 
with  a  warmth  of  approbation  rather  to  have  been  expected 
from  those  who  had  shared  his  bounty  or  enjoyed  his  friend- 
ship, than  from  the  colder  judgments  of  historians  looking  back 
calmly  upon  personages  who  had  long  ceased  to  influence  or 
affect  society. 

With  such  a  man,  and  with  Sedley's  resistless  wit  to  add 
fresh  vigour  to  the  conversation,  it  is  easy  to  understand  what 
Pepys  had  heard,  that  Lord  Buckhurst  and  Nelly  kept  "merry 
house  "  at  Epsom, — 

All  hearts  fall  a-leaping  wherever  she  comes, 

And  beat  night  and  day  like  my  Lord  Craven's  drums,  f 

What  this  Epsom  life  was  like  shall  be  the  subject  of  an- 
other Chapter. 

*  Prior's  Dedication  of  his  Poems  to  Lord  Buckhurst's  son,  Lionel,  first  Duke  of  Dorset. 
f  Song  by  Lord  Buckhurst. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Epsom  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II. — England  in  1667 — Nelly  resumes  her  Engagement  at  the 
King's  Theatre — Inferior  in  Tragedy  to  Comedy — Plays  Mirida  in  "All  Mistaken" — 
Miss  Davis  of  the  Duke's  Theatre — Her  song,  "  My  Lodging  it  is  on  the  Cold  Ground," 
parodied  by  Nell — Influence  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  in  controlling  the  predilections 
of  the  King — Charles  II.  at  the  Duke's  Theatre — Nelly  has  leading  parts  in  three  of 
Dryden's  new  Plays — Buckhurst  is  made  a  Gentleman  of  the  Bedchamber,  promised  a 
peerage,  and  sent  on  a  sleeveless  errand  into  France — Nell  becomes  the  Mistress  of 
the  King — Plays  Almahide  in  "  The  Conquest  of  Granada" — The  King  more  than  ever 
enamoured — Parallel  case  of  Perdita  Robinson  and  George  IV. 

Nelly  was  now  at  Epsom,  then  and  long  after  the  fashionable 
resort  of  the  richer  citizens  of  London.  "The  foolish  world  is 
never  to  be  mended,"  is  the  remark  of  "a  grentleman  of  wit 
and  sense "  in  Shadwell's  comedy  of  The  Virtuoso.  "  Your 
glass  coach,"  he  says,  "will  to  Hyde  Park  for  air;  the  suburb 
fools  trudge  to  Lamb's  Conduit  or  Tottenham  ;  your  sprucer 
sort  of  citizens  gallop  to  Epsom ;  your  mechanic  gross  fellows, 
shewing  much  conjugal  affection,  strut  before  their  wifes,  each 
with  a  child  in  his  arms,  to  Islincfton  or  Hosfsden."  The  same 
agreeable  writer,  whose  plays  supply  truer  and  happier  illus- 
trations of  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  time  than  any  other 
contemporary  dramatist,  has  left  us  a  comedy  called  "  Epsom 
Wells,"  in  which,  notwithstanding  the  sneer  of  Dryden  about 
his  "  hungry  Epsom-prose,"  he  has  contrived  to  interest  us  by 
peopling  the  place  with  the  usual  frequenters  out  of  term-time; 
men  of  wit  and  pleasure;  young  ladies  of  wit,  beauty,  and  for- 
tune ;  with  a  parson  and  a  country  justice ;  with  two  cheating, 
sharking  cowardly  bullies ;  with  two  rich  citizens  of  London 
and  their  wives,  one  a  comfitmaker,  the  other  a  haberdasher, 


NELLY   AT    EPSOM.  3 1 

and  both  cuckolds  ("  Epsom  water-drinking  "  with  other  ladies 
of  pleasure) ;  with  hectors  from  Covent  Garden,  a  constable, 
a  Doo-berry-like  watch,  and  two  country  fiddlers — in  short,  by 
picturing  "the  freedom  of  Epsom"  as  it  existed  in  an  age  of 
easy  virtue. 

The  Derby  and  the  Oaks,  the  races  which  have  rendered 
Epsom  so  famous,  and  our  not  less  celebrated  Tattenham  Cor- 
ner, were  then  unknown ;  but  the  King's  Head  and  the  New 
Inn,  Clay  Hill  and  Mawse's  Garden,  were  favourite  names,  full 
of  attractions  to  London  apprentices,  sighing  to  see  their  indent- 
ures at  an  end,  and  Epsom  no  longer  excluded  from  their 
places  of  resort.  The  waters  were  considered  efficacious,  and 
the  citizens  east  of  Temple  Bar  were  supposed  to  receive  as 
much  benefit  from  their  use,  as  the  courtiers  west  of  the  Bar 
were  presumed  to  receive  from  the  waters  of  Tunbridge  Wells. 
The  alderman  or  his  deputy,  on  their  way  to  this  somewhat 
inaccessible  suburb  of  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  were  met  at 
Tooting  by  lodging-house  keepers,  tradesmen,  and  quack- 
doctors,  with  so  many  clamorous  importunities  for  patronage, 
that  the  very  expressive  English  word  touti7tg  derives  its  origin 
from  the  village  where  this  plying  for  trade  was  carried  to  so 
importunate  an  extent. 

There  is  now  at  Epsom,  or  was  to  be  seen  there  till  very 
lately,  a  small  inn  with  the  sign  of  the  King's  Head,  lying  some- 
what out  of  the  present  town,  on  the  way  to  the  wells.  It  was 
at  "  the  next  house  "  to  this  inn,  or  to  an  inn  with  the  same 
name,  that  Nelly  and  Lord  Buckhurst  put  up,  keeping  "  merry 
house,"  with  Sedley  to  assist  them  in  laughing  at  the  "Bow- 
bell  suckers  "  who  resorted  to  the  Epsom  waters.*  Nelly  would 
contribute  her  share  to  the  merriment  of  the  scene  around  them. 
The  citizens  of  London  were  hated  by  the  players.  They  had 
successfully  opposed  them  in  all  their  early  attempts  in  the 

*  Pepys,  14  July,  1667. 


32  THE    STORY    OF   NELL    GWYN. 

reigns  of  Elizabeth  and  James  I.  to  erect  a  theatre  within  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  city;  and  at  no  time  had  they  ever  encour- 
aged the  drama  by  their  presence.  The  poets  and  actors 
lived  by  the  King  and  court,  while  they  repaid  their  opponents 
and  gratified  the  courtiers  by  holding  up  every  citizen  as  a 
cuckold  and  a  fool.  So  long  was  this  feeling  perpetuated  on 
the  stage  (it  still  lives  in  cur  literature),  that  Garrick,  in  his 
endeavour  to  supplant  the  usual  performance  of  the  "  London 
Cuckolds"  on  the  9th  of  November  (Lord  Mayor's  day),  was 
reduced  to  play  first  to  a  noisy  and  next  to  an  empty  house. 

Whilst  Buckhurst  and  Nelly  kept  "merry  house"  at  Epsom 
in  the  months  of  July  and  August,  1667,  it  was  not  altogether 
merry  in  England  elsewhere.  The  plague  of  1665  had  been 
followed  by  the  fire  of  1666,  and  both  plague  and  fire  in  1667  by 
the  national  shame  of  a  Dutch  fleet  insulting  us  in  the  Thames, 
burning  some  of  our  finest  ships  in  the  jMedway  at  Chatham, 
and  by  the  undeserved  disgrace  inflicted  by  the  King  and  his 
imperious  mistress,  Castlemaine,  on  the  great  Lord  Claren- 
don. Wise  and  good  men,  too,  were  departing  from  among 
us.  Cowley  finished  the  life  of  an  elegant  and  amiable  recluse 
at  Chertsey  in  Surrey,  and  Jeremy  Taylor  that  of  a  saint  at 
Lisnegarry,  in  Ireland.  England,  too,  in  the  same  year,  had 
lost  the  loyal  Marquess  of  Worcester  and  the  virtuous  Earl  of 
Southampton,  neither  of  whom  could  she  well  spare  at  such  a 
period;  on  the  other  hand,  the  country  was  receiving  a  noble 
addition  to  her  literature  by  the  publication  of  "  Paradise 
Lost;  "  but  this,  few  at  the  time  cared  to  read,  as  the  work  of 
''that  Milton  who  wrote  for  the  regicides,""' — '' tJiat  Paradise 
Lost  of  Milton's  which  some  are  pleased  to  call  a  poem,"t  or 
chose  to  understand,  from  the  seriousness  of  the  subject,  or  the 
grandeur  of  its  treatment. 

•  Evelyn's  Diary,  2  June,  i6S6. 

f  Rymer's  Letter  to  Fleetwood  Sheppard,  p.  143. 


NELLY    RETURNS    TO    THE    STAGE.  33 

At  the  Court,  where  undisguised  libertinism  was  still  tri- 
umphant, the  burning  of  the  city  began  to  be  talked  of  as  an 
old  story,  like  that  of  the  burning  of  Troy,  and  the  disgrace  at 
Chatham  as  something  to  be  obliterated  by  the  disgrace  of  the 
Lord  Chancellor.  Indeed  there  was  no  feeling  of  fear,  or  any 
sentiment  of  deserved  dishonour  maintained  at  Court.  On  the 
very  day  on  which  the  Great  Seal  was  taken  from  Clarendon, 
and  his  ruin  effected,  the  Countess  of  Castlemaine,  one  of  the 
leading  instruments  of  his  fall,  was  admiring  the  rope-dancing 
of  Jacob  Hall,  and  laughing  at  the  drolls  and  odd  animals  ex- 
hibited to  the  citizens  at  Bartholomew  Fair ! 

Nelly,  after  a  month's  absence,  returned  to  London  in  Au- 
gust, 1667,  and  resumed  some  of  her  old  parts  at  the  theatre 
in  Drury  Lane,  playing  Bellario  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's 
"  Philaster;  "  Panthea,  in  "A  King  and  No  King,"  of  the  same 
authors ;  Cydaria,  in  "The  Indian  Emperor,"  of  Dryden  and  his 
brother-in-law;  Samira,  in  Sir  Robert  Howard's  "Surprisal;" 
Flora,  in  "  Flora's  Vagaries,"  a  comedy  attributed  to  Rhodes  ; 
and  Mirida,  in  "All  Mistaken,  or  the  Mad  Couple,"  of  the  Hon. 
James  Howard.  Of  her  performance  in  some  of  these  parts 
Pepys  again  is  our  only  informant.    How  graphic  are  his  entries  ! 

"  22  Aug.  1667,  With  my  lord  Brouncker  and  his  mistress  to  the  King's 
playhouse,  and  there  saw  the  'Indian  Emperor,'  where  I  found  Nell  come 
again,  which  I  am  glad  of  ;  but  was  most  infinitely  displeased  with  her  being 
put  to  act  the  Emperor's  daughter,  which  is  a  great  and  serious  part,  which 
she  does  most  basely.  The  rest  of  the  play,  though  pretty  good,  was  not  well 
acted  by  most  of  them,  methought ;  so  that  I  took  no  great  content  in  it. 

"  26  Aug.  1667,  To  the  King's  playhouse  and  saw  '  The  Surprisal,'  a  very 
mean  play  I  thought,  or  else  it  was  because  I  was  out  of  humour,  and  but 
very  little  company  in  the  house.  Sir  W.  Pen  and  I  had  a  great  deal  of  dis- 
course with  [Orange]  Moll,  who  tells  us  that  Nell  is  already  left  by  my  Lord 
Buckhurst,  and  that  he  makes  sport  of  her,  and  swears  she  hath  had  all  she 
could  get  of  him  ;  and  Hart,  her  great  admirer,  now  hates  her  ;  and  that  she 
is  very  poor,  and  hath  lost  my  Lady  Castlemaine,  who  was  her  great  friend, 
also ;  but  she  is  come  to  the  house,  but  is  neglected  by  them  all. 


34  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

"5  Oct.  1667.  To  the  King's  house,  and  there  going  in  met  Knipp,  and 
she  took  us  up  to  the  tiring  rooms  ;  and  to  the  women's  shift,  where  Nell 
was  dressing  herself  [as  Flora],  and  was  all  unready,  and  is  very  pretty,  pret- 
tier than  I  thought.  And  into  the  scene-room,  and  there  sat  down,  and  she 
gave  us  fruit ;  and  here  I  read  the  questions  to  Knipp,  while  she  answered  me 
through  all  the  part  of  'Flora's  vagaries,'  which  was  acted  to-day.  But,  Lord  ! 
to  see  how  they  were  both  painted  would  make  a  man  mad,  and  did  make  me 
loath  them  ;  and  what  base  company  of  men  comes  among  them,  and  how 
lewdly  they  talk  !  and  how  poor  the  men  are  in  clothes,  and  yet  what  a  show 
they  make  on  the  stage  by  candlelight,  is  very  observable.  But  to  see  how 
Nell  cursed  for  having  so  few  people  in  the  pit  was  pretty  ;  the  other  house 
carrying  away  all  the  people  at  the  new  play,  and  is  said  now-a-days  to  have 
generally  most  company,  as  being  better  players. 

"26  Dec,  1667.  With  my  wife  to  the  King's  playhouse,  and  there  saw 
*  The  Surprisal,'  which  did  not  please  me  to-day,  the  actors  not  pleasing  me, 
and  especially  Nell's  acting  of  a  serious  part,  which  she  spoils. 

"  28  Dec.  1667.  To  the  King's  House,  and  there  saw  *  The  Mad  Couple,' 
which  is  but  an  ordinary  play ;  but  only  Nell's  and  Hart's  mad  parts  are  most 
excellent  done,  but  especially  hers,  which  makes  it  a  miracle  to  me  to  think 
how  ill  she  do  any  serious  part,  as,  the  other  day,  just  like  a  fool  or  change- 
ling ;  and  in  a  mad  part  do  beyond  imitation  almost." 

That  Nell  hated  "serious  parts,"  in  which,  as  Pepys  assures 
us,  she  was  poor,  we  have  her  own  testimony,  in  an  epilogue 
which  she  spoke  a  few  months  later  to  the  tragedy  of  the 
"  Duke  of  Lerma." 

I  know  you  in  your  hearts 

Hate  serious  plays — as  I  hate  serious  parts. 

And  again  in  the  epilogue  to  "Tyrannick  Love  :" 

I  die 
Out  of  my  calling  in  a  tragedy. 

The  truth  is  (as  I  see  reason  to  believe),  such  parts  were  thrust 
upon  her  by  Hart,  her  old  admirer,  who  hated  her  for  prefer- 
ring Lord  Buckhurst  to  himself.  But  this  feeling  was  soon  over- 
come, and  Nell,  as  Mirida  in  the  comedy  of  "All  Mistaken," 


NELL   AS    MAD-CAP    MIRIDA.  35 

added  to  her  well-earned  reputation  as  an  actress,  obeying  the 
advice  of  Mrs.  Barry,  **  Make  yourself  mistress  of  your  part, 
and  leave  the  figure  and  action  to  nature."  ^'' 

"  All  Mistaken,  or  the  Mad  Couple,"  a  play  commended 
by  some,  says  Langbaine,  "as  an  excellent  comedy,"  has  little 
merit  of  its  own  to  recommend  it  to  the  reader.  The  whole 
success  of  the  performance  must  have  rested  on  Hart  and 
Nelly.  Philidor  (Hart)  is  mad,  or  as  we  should  now  call  him 
a  madcap,  kinsman  of  an  Italian  Duke,  and  Mirida  (Nelly)  is  a 
madcap  young  lady  of  the  same  eccentric  school.  Philidor  is 
troubled  with  clamorous  importunities  for  marriage  from  six 
young  ladies  whom  he  has  betrayed,  and  for  money  from  those 
nurses  by  whom  his  children  have  been  taken ;  and  Mirida  is 
persecuted  with  the  importunate  addresses,  at  the  same  time, 
of  a  very  lean  and  of  a  very  fat  lover.  Some  of  the  pleasantries 
to  which  the  madcap  couple  resort  are  of  a  coarse  and  practical 
character.  Philidor  tricks  his  besiegers,  and  Mirida  replies  to 
her  importunate  lovers  that  she  will  marry  the  lean  one  when 
he  is  fatter,  and  the  fat  one  when  he  is  leaner.  The  arts  which 
the  suitors  have  recourse  to  are  somewhat  tedious,  and  cer- 
tainly not  over  decent.  Yet  it  is  easy  to  see  that  the  play 
would  tell  with  the  audience  to  whom  it  was  addressed,  for 
many  of  the  situations  are  humorous  in  the  extreme.  In  one 
of  the  scenes  Philidor  and  Mirida  are  bound  back  to  back  by 
the  six  ladies,  Philidor  losing  his  money  and  his  hat,  and  Mirida 
consoling  herself  by  the  entry  of  a  fiddler. 

[Enter  Fiddler.l  Mirida. — A  fiddle,  nay  then  I  am  made  again  ;  I'd 
have  a  dance  if  I  had  nothing  but  my  smock  on.  Fiddler,  strike  up  and  play 
my  jig,  call'd  "I  care  not  a  pin  for  any  man."  f 

*  Curll's  Stage,  p.  62. 

f  Nell  was  famous  for  dancing  jigs.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham,  in  his  Epilogue  to  "  The 
Chances,"  laughs  at  poets  who  mistook  the  praise  given  to  Nelly's  jig  for  the  praise  bestowed 
on  their  own  performances. 


36  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

Fiddler. — Indeed  I  can't  stay.     I  am  going  to  play  to  some  gentlemen. 

Mirida. — Nay,  thou  shalt  stay  but  a  little. 

Fiddler. — Give  me  half-a-crown  then. 

Mirida. — I  have  no  money  about  me  ;  but  here,  take  my  hankercher. 

\Dance  and  Exit, 

In  another  part  Mirida  manages  a  sham  funeral  for  Phili- 
dor,  to  which  the  six  young  ladies  are  invited,  to  hear  the  will 
of  the  deceased. 

Mirida. — Poor  young  man,  he  was  killed  yesterday  by  a  duel. 

"  Item.  I  give  to  Mrs.  Mary  for  a  reason  that  she  knows,  500/.  Item. 
500/.  to  Mrs.  Margaret  for  a  reason  she  knov/s.  Item.  500/.  to  Mrs.  Sarah 
for  a  reason  she  knows.  Item.  500/.  to  Mrs.  Martha  for  a  reason  she  knows. 
Item.  500/.  to  Mrs.  Alice  for  a  reason  she  knows.  Item.  500/.  to  Mrs.  Elinor 
for  a  reason  she  knows,  and  so  to  all  the  rest.  Item.  To  my  nurses  I  leave  each 
of  them  20/.  a  year  apiece  for  their  lives,  besides  their  arrears  due  to  them  for 
nursing.  These  sums  of  money  and  legacies  I  leave  to  be  raised  and  paid 
out  of  my  manor  of  Constantinople,  in  which  the  Great  Turk  is  now  tenant 
for  life."  \^Laughs  aside.]  If  they  should  hear  how  their  legacies  are  to  be 
paid,  how  they'd  fall  a-drumming  on  his  coffin  ! 

There  is  more  of  this;  but  it  is  time  to  turn  to  that  incident 
from  which  the  play  derived  its  popularity,  its  satire  on  a 
recent  event  at  the  Duke's  Theatre. 

"The  Rivals,"  a  play  altered  by  Davenant  from  "The 
Two  Noble  Kinsmen  "  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  or  rather  of 
Fletcher  alone,  was  brought  upon  the  stage  about  1664,  but 
would  not  appear  to  have  met  with  any  great  success  till  1667, 
when  the  part  of  Celania  was  represented  by  little  Miss  Davis, 
who  danced  a  jig  in  the  play  and  then  sang  a  song  in  it,  both 
of  which  found  their  way  direct  to  the  heart  of  the  merry  mon- 
arch. The  jig  was  probably  some  fresh  French  importation,  or 
nothing  more  than  a  rustic  measure,  with  a  few  foreign  innova- 
tions. The  song  has  reached  us,  and  has  much  ballad  beauty  to 
recommend  it. 


SONG    SUNG    BY    MISS    DAVIS.  37 

My  lodging  it  is  on  the  cold  ground, 

And  very  hard  is  my  fare, 
But  that  which  troubles  me  most  is 

The  unkindness  of  my  dear. 
Yet  still  I  cry,  O  turn  love, 

And  I  pr'ythee,  love,  turn  to  me, 
For  thou  art  the  man  that  I  long  for. 

And  alack  what  remedy  ! 

I'll  crown  thee  with  a  garland  of  straw,  then, 

And  I'll  marry  thee  with  a  rush  ring, 
My  frozen  hopes  shall  thaw  then, 

And  merrily  Ave  will  sing. 
O  turn  to  me,  my  dear  love, 

And  prythee,  love,  turn  to  me, 
For  thou  art  the  man  that  alone  canst 

Procure  my  liberty. 

But  if  thou  wilt  harden  thy  heart  still, 

And  be  deaf  to  my  pitiful  moan, 
Then  I  must  endure  the  smart  still. 

And  tumble  in  straw  alone. 
Yet  still,  I  cry,  O  turn,  love. 

And  I  prythee,  love,  turn  to  me. 
For  thou  art  the  man  that  alone  art 

The  cause  of  my  misery.* 

The  success  of  the  song  is  related  by  the  prompter  of  the 
theatre  in  his  curious  Httle  volume,  called  "Roscius  Angli- 
canus."  **A11  the  women's  parts,"  says  Downes,  "were  admi- 
rably acted,  but  what  pleased  most  was  the  part  of  Celania,  a 
shepherdess,  mad  for  love,  and  her  song  of  *  My  lodging  is  on 
the  cold  ground,'  which  she  performed,"  he  adds,  "so  charm- 
ingly that  not  long  after  it  raised  her  from  her  bed  on  the  cold 
ground  to  a  bed  royal."! 

I  might  be  excused  for  referring,  at  this  period  of  Nelly's 

*  The  stage  direction  is — "  That  done  she  lies  down  and  falls  asleep." 
\  "  Roscius  Anglicanus,"  p.  24.  cd.  170S. 


38  THE   STORY   OF   NELL   GWYN. 

life,  to  the  ribald  personalities  common  to  the  stage  in  the 
reign  of  Charles  II.,  but  I  am  unwilling  to  stop  the  stream  of 
my  narrative  by  delaying  to  relate  the  personal  reference  made 
by  Nell,  in  the  play  of  "All  Mistaken,"  to  the  song  and  the 
incident  at  the  Duke's  House,  which  raised  little  Miss  Davis  to 
a  "bed  royal."  The  scene  in  "All  Mistaken  "  which  doubtless 
gave  the  greatest  delight  to  the  audience  at  Drury  Lane,  was 
that  in  the  last  act,  where  Pinguisier,  the  fat  lover,  sobs  his 
complaints  into  the  ear  of  the  madcap  Mirida. 

Mirida. — Dear  love,  come  sit  thee  in  my  lap,  and  let  me  know  if  I  can 
enclose  thy  world  of  fat  and  love  within  these  arms.  See,  I  cannot  nigh  com- 
pass my  desires  by  a  mile. 

Pinguisier. — How  is  my  fat  a  rival  to  my  joys  !  sure  I  shall  weep  it  all 
away.  \Cnes. 

'     '  Lie  still,  my  babe,  lie  still  and  sleep, 

It  grieves  me  sore  to  see  thee  weep, 
Wert  thou  but  leaner  I  were  glad  ; 
Thy  fatness  makes  thy  dear  love  sad. 

What  a  lump  of  love  have  I  in  my  arms  ! 

My  lodging  is  on  the  cold  boards. 

And  wonderful  hard  is  my  fare. 
But  that  which  troubles  me  most  is 

The  fatness  of  my  dear. 
Yet  still  I  cry.  Oh  melt,  love, 

And  I  prythee  now  melt  apace, 
For  thou  art  the  man  I  should  long  for 

If  'twere  not  for  thy  grease. 


Pinguisier. — 


Then  prythee  don't  harden  thy  heart  still, 

And  be  deaf  to  my  pitiful  moan. 
Since  I  do  endure  the  smart  still, 

And  for  my  fat  do  groan. 
Then  prythee  now  turn,  my  dear  love, 

And  I  prythee  now  turn  to  me, 
For,  alas  !  I  am  too  fat  still 

To  roll  so  far  to  thee. 


NELL   MIMICS    MISS    DAVIS.  39 

The  nearer  the  fat  man  rolls  towards  her,  the  further  she 
rolls  away  from  him,  till  she  at  length  rises  and  laughs  her 
hearty  Mrs.  Jordan -like  mirth-provoking  laugh,  first  at  the  man 
and  then  towards  the  audience,  seizes  a  couple  of  swords  from 
a  cutler  passing  by,  disarms  her  fat  lover,  and  makes  him  the 
ridicule  of  the  whole  house.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  this  would 
not  take  now,  even  with  another  Nelly  to  represent  it ;  but 
every  age  has  its  fashion  and  its  humour,  and  that  of  Charles 
II.  had  fashions  and  humours  of  its  own,  quite  as  diverting  as 
any  of  the  representations  and  incidents  which  still  prove  at- 
tractive to  a  city  or  a  west-end  audience. 

"  Little  Miss  Davis  "  danced  and  sang  divinely,  but  was 
not  particularly  beautiful,  though  she  had  fine  eyes  and  a  neat 
figure,  both  of  which  are  preserved  in  her  portrait  at  Cashio- 
bury,  by  Sir  Peter  Lely.*  The  popular  belief  still  lingering 
among  the  cottages  surrounding  the  old  Jacobean  mansion  of 
the  Howards  at  Charlton  in  Wiltshire,  that  she  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  blacksmith,  and  was  at  one  time  a  milkmaid,  can  only 
in  part  be  true.  Pepys  was  informed  by  Mrs.  Pearse,  wife  of 
James  Pearse,  surgeon  to  the  Duke  of  York  and  surgeon  of 
the  regiment  commanded  by  the  Duke,  that  she  was  an  ille- 
gitimate child  of  Colonel  Howard,  son  of  the  Earl  of  Berk- 
shire, and  brother  of  James  Howard,  author  of  the  play  in 
which,  as  we  have  seen,  she  was  held  up  to  ridicule  through 
the  inimitable  acting  of  Nell  Gwyn.  The  King's  affection  for 
her  was  shown  in  a  marked  and  open  manner.  The  ring  of 
rushes  referred  to  in  the  song  was  exchanged  for  a  ring  of  the 
value  of  700/.,  and  her  lodging  about  Ludgate  or  Lincoln's 
Inn  (the  usual  resorts  of  the  players  at  the  Duke's  Theatre)  for 
a  house  in  Suffolk  Street,  Haymarket,  furnished  by  the  King 

*  This  is  a  half-length,  seated, — the  same  portrait,  I  suspect,  which  Mrs.  Beale  saw  in 
Bap.  May's  lodgings  at  Whitehall.  The  curious  full-length  portrait  of  her  in  after-life  by 
Kneller,  and  now  at  Audley  End,  barely  supplies  a  single  feature  that  is  attractive. 


40  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

expressly  for  her  use.  The  Queen,  before  she  was  worn  into 
complete  indifference  by  the  uncontrolled  vices  of  her  husband, 
resented  them  at  times  with  the  spirit  of  a  woman.  When 
Miss  Davis  was  dancing  one  of  her  favourite  "jigs"  in  a  play 
at  Court,  the  Queen  rose  and  "  would  not  stay  to  see  it."  Nor 
was  the  imperious  Countess  of  Castlemaine  less  incensed  than 
the  Queen  herself  at  the  unwelcome  intrusion  of  little  Miss 
Davis  within  the  innermost  chambers  and  withdrawing-rooms 
of  Whitehall.  Her  revenge,  however,  was  peculiarly  her  own 
— she  ran  into  open  infidelities ;  and,  as  the  King  had  set  her 
aside  for  an  actress  at  his  brother's  house,  so  to  be  "even" 
with  him  (the  expression  is  in  Pepys),  she  extended  her  favours 
to  Charles  Hart,  the  handsome  and  celebrated  actor,  at  his  own 
house. 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham  (the  wit,  and  the  second  and  last 
Duke  of  the  Villiers  family)  is  thought  to  have  been  the  prin- 
cipal agent  at  this  time  in  directing  and  confirming  the  predi- 
lections of  the  King.  The  Duke  and  Lady  Castlemaine  had 
newly  quarrelled,  fiercely  and  almost  openly,  and  both  were 
devising  means  of  revenge  characteristic  of  their  natures.  By 
the  influence  of  the  Countess  the  Duke  was  removed  from  his 
seat  at  the  council,  and  the  Duke  in  return  "  studied  to  take 
the  King  from  her  by  new  amours,"  and  thinking,  truly  enough, 
that  a  "gaiety  of  humour,"  would  take  with  his  Majesty  more 
than  beauty  without  humour,  he  encouraged  his  passion  for 
little  Miss  Davis  by  all  the  arts  and  insinuations  he  was  master 
of.  The  King,  too,  was  readier  than  usual  to  adopt  any  new 
excess  of  enjoyment  which  Buckingham  could  offer  him.  La 
Belle  Stuart,  the  only  woman  for  whom  he  would  seem  to  have 
entertained  any  sincere  affection,  had  left  his  court  in  secret  a 
few  months  before,  and  worse  still  had  given  herself  in  mar- 
riage to  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  without  his  approbation,  and 
even  without  his  knowledge.     Castlemaine  was  now  past  her 


AMUSEMENTS   AT    THE    THEATRE.  4I 

zenith,  though  she  retained  much  beauty  to  the  last,  and  found 
admirers  in  the  great  Duke  of  Marlborough,  when  young,  and 
in  Beau  Fielding,  long  the  handsomest  man  about  town.  Yet 
Charles  was  not  really  unkind  to  her  at  any  time.  The  song 
which  he  caused  Will  Legge  to  sing  to  her — 

Poor  Alinda's  growing  old, — 

Those  charms  are  now  no  more, — * 

must  have  caused  her  some  temporary  uneasiness  and  a  dis- 
dainful curl  of  her  handsome  and  imperious  lip;  but  she  knew 
her  influence  and  managed  to  retain  it  almost  unimpaired  to 
the  very  last,  in  spite  of  many  excesses,  which  Buckingham 
seldom  failed  to  discover  and  make  known  to  the  King. 

Of  the  King,  the  Countess,  and  pretty  Miss  Davis,  at  this 
period,  Pepys  affords  us  a  sketch  in  little — but  to  the  point :  — 

"21  Dec.  1668,  To  the  Duke's  playhouse,  and  saw  'Macbeth.'  The 
King  and  court  there  ;  and  we  sat  just  under  them  and  my  Lady  Castlemaine, 
and  close  to  a  woman  that  comes  into  the  pit,  a  kind  of  loose  gossip,  that  pre- 
tends to  be  like  her,  and  is  so,  something.  And  my  wife,  by  my  troth,  appeared 
I  think  as  pretty  as  any  of  them  ;  I  never  thought  so  much  before  ;  and  so 
did  Talbot  and  W.  Hewer,  as  I  heard  they  said  to  one  another.  The  King 
and  the  Duke  of  York  minded  me,  and  smiled  upon  me  at  the  handsome 
woman  near  me ;  but  it  vexed  me  to  see  Moll  Davis,  in  the  box  over  the 
King's  and  my  Lady  Castlemaine's,  look  down  upon  the  King,  and  he  up  to 
her ;  and  so  did  my  Lady  Castlemaine  once,  to  see  who  it  was  ;  but  when  she 
saw  Moll  Davis  she  looked  like  fire,  which  troubled  me." 

To  complete  the  picture  which  Pepys  has  left  us,  we  have 
only  to  turn  to  "The  True  Widow,"  of  Shadwell,  where,  in  the 
fourth  act,  the  scene  is  laid  in  "the  Playhouse,"  and  stage 
directions  of  this  character  occur:  "Enter  women  masked;" 
"  Several  young  coxcombs  fool  with  the  orange-women  ;"  "He 
sits  down  and  lolls  in  the  orange-wench's  lap;"  "Raps  people 
on  the  backs  and  twirls  their  hats,  and  then  looks  demurely, 

*  Lord  Dartmouth's  note  in  Burnet,  i,  438,  ed.  1S23.    Where  are  these  verses  to  be  found  ? 


42  THE   STORY   OF   NELL   GWYN. 

as  if  he  did  not  do  it ; " — such  were  daily  occurrences  at  both 
theatres  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II. 

Such  were  our  pleasures  in  the  days  of  yore, 
When  amorous  Charles  Britannia's  sceptre  bore  ; 
The  mighty  scene  of  joy  the  Park  was  made, 
And  Love  in  couples  peopled  every  shade. 
But  since  at  Court  the  moral  taste  is  lost, 
What  mighty  sums  have  velvet  couches  cost !  * 

We  are  now  less  barefaced  in  our  immoralities,  but  are 
we  really  better?  Was  Whitehall  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II. 
worse  than  St.  James's  Palace  in  the  reign  of  George  II.,  or 
Carlton  House  in  the  regency  of  George  IV.  ?  Were  Mrs. 
Robinson,  Mary  Anne  Clarke,  or  Dora  Jordan,  better  women 
than  Eleanor  Gwyn  or  Mary  Davis?  Will  future  historians 
prefer  the  old  Duke  of  Queensbury  and  the  late  Marquis 
of  Hertford  to  the  Duke  of  Buckinorham  and  the  Earl  of 
Rochester? 

A  new  play  of  this  period,  in  which  Nelly  performed  the 
heroine,  is  the  "Black  Prince,"  written  by  the  Earl  of  Orrery, 
and  acted  for  the  first  time  at  the  King's  House,  on  the  19th 
October,  1667.  Nelly's  part  was  Alizia  or  Alice  Piers,  the 
mistress  of  Edward  III.;  and  the  following  lines  must  have 
often  in  after  life  occurred  to  recollection,  not  from  their  poetry, 
which  is  little  enough,  but  from  their  particular  applicability  to 
her  own  story. 

You  know,  dear  friend,  when  to  this  court  I  came. 

My  eyes  did  all  our  bravest  youths  inflame ; 

And  in  that  happy  state  I  lived  awhile, 

When  Fortune  did  betray  me  with  a  smile  ; 

Or  rather  Love  against  my  peace  did  fight ; 

And  to  revenge  his  power,  which  I  did  slight, 

Made  Edward  our  victorious  monarch  be 

One  of  those  many  who  did  sigh  for  me. 

*  Gay  to  Pulteney. 


GREEN-ROOM    RUMOURS.  43 

All  Other  flame  but  his  I  did  deride  ; 
They  rather  made  my  trouble  than  my  pride  : 
But  this,  when  told  me,  made  me  quickly  know, 
Love  is  a  god  to  which  all  hearts  must  bow. 

The  King  was  present  at  the  first  performance,  when  his 
own  heart  was  acknowledging  and  his  own  eyes  betraying  the 
sense  he  entertained  of  the  beauty  and  wit  of  the  charming 
actress  who  played  Alizia  on  the  stage,  and  who  was  hereafter 
to  move  in  the  same  sphere  in  which  the  original  had  moved — 
with  greater  honesty  and  much  more  affection. 

While  little  Miss  Davis  was  living  in  handsome  lodgings  in 
Suffolk  Street,  and  baring  her  hand  in  public  in  the  face  of  the 
Countess  of  Castlemaine,  to  show  the  700/.  ring  which  the 
King  had  given  her,  a  report  arose  that  "  the  King  had  sent 
for  Nelly." '"'  Nor  was  it  long  before  this  gossip  of  the  town 
was  followed  by  other  rumours  about  her,  not  likely,  it  was 
thought,  to  be  true,  from  her  constant  appearance  on  the  stage, 
speaking  prologues  in  fantastic  hats  and  Amazonian  habits,  f 
playing  as  she  did,  too,  at  this  time  Valeria  in  Dryden's  last 
new  tragedy  of  "Tyrannick  Love,  or  the  Royal  Martyr,"  and 
Donna  Jacintha  in  Dryden's  latest  comedy,  called  "  An  Even- 
ing's Love,  or  the  Mock  Astrologer."  Other  rumours,  relating 
to  Lord  Buckhurst,  and  since  found  to  be  true,  were  current  at 
the  same  time, — that  he  had  been  made  a  groom  of  the  King's 
bedchamber,  with  a  pension  of  a  thousand  pounds  a-year,  com- 
mencing from  Michaelmas,  1668;  that  he  had  received  the 
promise  of  a  peerage  at  his  grandfather's  death ;  and  that  he 
had  been  sent  by  the  King  on  a  complimentary  visit  to  a 
foreign  power,  or,  as  Dryden  is  said  to  have  called  it,  on  a 
"sleeveless  errand  "f  into  France.     In  the  meantime  gossips 

•Pepys,  II  January,  1667-8. 

f  Before  the  i66g  edition  of  Catiline  is  a  prologue   "  to  be  merrily  spoke  by  Mrs.  Nell  in 
an  Amazonian  habit."     Pepys  and  Evelyn  both  saw  Catiline  acted  on  the  19th  Dec,  l663. 
^Note  by  Boyer  in  his  translation  of  De  Grammont,  Svo,  1714,  p.  343. 


44  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   G\VYN. 

in  both  the  theatres  were  utterly  at  a  loss  to  reconcile  the 
stones  repeated  by  the  orange-women  that  Nelly  was  often  at 
Whitehall  with  her  constant  attention  to  her  theatrical  engage- 
ments, and  the  increasing  skill  she  exhibited  in  the  acquire- 
ments of  her  art.  Nor  was  it  till  the  winter  of  1669,  or  rather 
the  spring  of  1670,  that  the  fact  of  the  postponement  of  a  new 
tragedy  by  Dryden,  on  account  of  Nelly's  being  away,  con- 
firmed some  of  the  previous  rumours ;  and  it  was  known  even 
east  of  Temple  Bar,  and  among  the  Puritans  in  the  Blackfriars, 
that  Nelly  had  become  the  mistress  of  the  King. 

When  this  important  change  in  her  condition  took  place — 
a  change  that  removed  her  from  many  temptations,  and  led  to 
the  exhibition  of  traits  of  character  and  good  feeling  which 
more  than  account  for  the  fascination  connected  with  her  name 
— she  was  studying  the  part  of  Almahide  in  Dryden's  new 
tragedy,  "The  Conquest  of  Granada."  Before,  however,  the 
play  could  be  produced  Nelly  was  near  giving  birth  to  the 
future  Duke  of  St.  Albans,  and  therefore  unable  to  appear,  so 
that  Dryden  was  obliged  to  postpone  the  production  of  his 
piece  till  another  season.  The  poet  alludes  to  this  postpone- 
ment In  his  epilogue, — 

Think  him  not  duller  for  the  year's  delay  ; 

He  was  prepared,  the  women  were  away ; 

And  men  without  their  parts  can  hardly  play. 

If  they  through  sickness  seldom  did  appear, 

Pity  the  virgins  of  each  theatre  ; 

For  at  both  houses  'twas  a  sickly  year  ! 

And  pity  us,  your  servants,  to  whose  cost 

In  one  such  sickness  nine  whole  months  were  lost. 

The  allusion  is  to  Miss  Davis  at  the  Duke's,  and  to  Nelly 
at  the  King's ;  but  the  poet's  meaning  has  escaped  his  editors. 

The  "Conquest  of  Granada"  was  first  performed  in  the 
autumn  of  1670, — Hart  playing  Almanzor  to  Nelly's  Almahide. 


NELL   AS   ALMAHIDE.  45 

With  what  manliness  and  grace  of  elocution  must  Hart  have 
delivered  the  well-known  lines, — 

I  am  as  free  as  Nature  first  made  man, 
Ere  the  base  laws  of  servitude  began, 
When  wild  in  woods  the  noble  savage  ran. 

The  attraction,  however,  of  the  play  rested  mainly  upon 
Nelly,  who  spoke  the  prologue  **  in  a  broad-brimmed  hat  and 
waist-belt,"  and  apologised  in  the  following  manner  for  her 
appearance,  to  the  renewed  delight  of  the  whole  audience : 

This  jest  was  first  of  th'  other  House's  making, 
And,  five  times  tried,  has  never  failed  of  taking ; 
For  'twere  a  shame  a  poet  should  be  kill'd 
Under  the  shelter  of  so  broad  a  shield. 
This  is  tha.t  hat  whose  very  sight  did  win  ye 
To  laugh  and  clap  as  though  the  devil  were  in  ye. 
As  then  for  Nokes,  so  now  I  hope  you'll  be 
So  dull  to  laugh  once  more  for  love  of  me. 

The  jest  "  of  the  other  house's  making "  is  said  to  have 
occurred  in  May,  1670,  while  the  Court  was  at  Dover,  to  re- 
ceive the  King's  sister,  the  beautiful  Duchess  of  Orleans.  The 
reception  of  her  royal  highness  was  attended  with  much  pomp 
and  gaiety — the  Duke's  company  of  actors  playing  Shadwell's 
"Sullen  Lovers,"  and  Caryl's  "Sir  Salomon,  or  the  Cautious 
Coxcomb,"  before  the  Duchess  and  her  suite.  One  of  the 
characters  in  Caryl's  comedy  is  that  of  Sir  Arthur  Addle,  a 
bawling  fop,  played  by  Nokes  with  a  reality  of  action  and 
manner  then  unsurpassed  upon  the  stage.  The  dress  of  the 
French  attending  the  Duchess,  and  present  at  the  perform- 
ance of  the  plays,  included  an  excessively  short  laced  scarlet 
or  blue  coat,  with  a  broad  waist-belt,  which  Nokes  took  care 
to  laugh  at,  by  wearing  a  still  shorter  coat  of  the  same  char- 
acter, to  which  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  added  a  sword  and 


46  THE    STORY    OF   NELL    GWYN. 

belt  from  his  own  side,  so  that  he  looked,  as  old  Downes  the 
prompter  assures  us,  more  like  a  dressed-up  ape,  or  a  quiz  on 
the  French,  than  Sir  Arthur  Addle.  The  jest  took  at  once, 
King  Charles  and  his  whole  Court  falling  into  .an  excess  of 
laughter  as  soon  as  he  appeared  upon  the  stage,  and  the 
French  showing  their  chagrin  at  the  personality  and  folly  of 
the  imitation.  The  sword,  which  the  Duke  had  buckled  on 
the  actor  with  his  own  hands,  was  kept  by  Nokes  to  his 
dying  day. 

It  was  in  the  character  of  Almahide  in  "  The  Conquest 
of  Granada,"  and  while  wearing  her  broad-brimmed  hat  and 
waist-belt  in  the  prologue  to  the  same  play,  that  Charles  be- 
came more  than  ever  enamoured  of  Nelly.  A  satirist  of  the 
time  has  expressed  the  result  of  the  performance  in  a  couplet 
not  wholly  destitute  of  force — 

There  Hart's  and  Rowley's  souls  she  did  ensnare, 
And  made  a  King  a  rival  to  a  player ; — 

while  Granville,  who  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Waller,  and 
lived  to  be  the  patron  of  Pope,  has  told  the  result  in  his  poem 
called  "The  Progress  of  Beauty  : " 

Granada  lost,  behold  her  pomps  restor'd, 
And  Almahide  again  by  Kings  adored. 

An  effect  from  a  stage  performance  which  some  still  live  to  re- 
member, when  it  found  a  parallel  in  the  passion  which  George 
IV.,  when  Prince  of  Wales,  evinced  for  Mrs.  Robinson,  while 
playing  the  part  of  Perdita  in  "  A  Winter's  Tale."  What  a 
true  name  is  Perdita  indeed  for  such  a  fate,  and  what  a  lesson 
may  a  young  actress  learn  from  the  story  of  poor  Mrs.  Robin- 
son, when  told,  as  I  have  heard  it  told,  by  her  grave  in  Old 
Windsor  churchyard !  Nor  is  Nelly's  story  without  its  moral 
— and  now  that  we  have  got  her  from  the  purlieus  of  Drury 


LAST  PERFORMANCE  ON  THE  STAGE.  47 

Lane,  and  the  contaminations  of  the  green-room, — for  the  part 
of  Almahide  was  her  last  performance  on  the  stage, ^ — we  shall 
find  her  true  to  the  King,  and  evincing  in  her  own  way  more 
good  than  we  should  have  expected  to  have  found  from  so  bad 
a  bringing  up. 

*  The  Mrs.  Gwyn  or  Quyn  who  appeared  on  the  stage  while  Nelly  was  alive,  was  a 
different  person,  though  hitherto  always  confounded  with  her.  I  had  come  to  this  conclu 
sion,  when  I  was  pleased  to  find  my  conviction  made  good  by  a  MS.  note  by  Isaac  Reed,  in 
his  copy  of  the  first  edition  of  the  Roscius  Anglicanus,  in  my  possession.  Downes  distin- 
guishes Nelly  by  calling  her  "  Madam  Gwin,"  or  "  Mrs.  Ellen  Gwin  ;  " — the  other  is  alwa}'S 
"  Mrs.  Gwin." 


CHAPTER   IV. 

PERSONAL   CHARACTER    OF    KING    CHARLES   IL 

The  character  of  King  Charles  II.  has  been  drawn  with  care 
and  skill  by  several  writers  of  distinguished  reputation  to 
whom  he  was  known  :  by  the  great  Lord  Clarendon ;  by  the 
Marquess  of  Halifax;  by  the  Duke  of  Buckingham;  by  Eve- 
lyn and  Sir  William  Temple ;  by  Burnet,  Dryden,  and  Roger 
North.  Lord  Clarendon  had  been  acquainted  with  him  from  his 
boyhood,  and  had  been  his  principal  adviser  for  many  years ; 
Halifax  had  been  his  minister;  Buckingham  had  received  dis- 
tinguished marks  of  favour  at  his  hands ;  Evelyn  not  only  fre- 
quented his  court,  but  had  often  conversed  with  him  on  matters 
of  moment,  and  was  intimate  with  many  who  knew  him  well ; 
Temple  had  been  his  ambassador  ;  Burnet  had  spoken  to  him 
with  a  freedom  which  nothing  but  his  pastoral  character  would 
have  sanctioned ;  Dr^-den  was  his  Poet  Laureate ;  and  North 
added  to  his  own  his  brother  the  Lord  Keeper's  experience  of 
the  King's  character.  From  such  writers  as  these,  and  with 
the  aid  of  such  incidental  illustrations  as  a  leno^thened  interest 

o 

in  the  subject  will  supply,  I  propose  to  draw  the  portraiture  of 
the  King,  using,  where  such  fidelity  is  requisite,  the  very  words 
of  the  authorities  I  employ. 

His  personal  appearance  was  remarkable.  He  was  five 
feet  ten  inches  in  height  and  well-made,  with  an  expression 
of  countenance  somewhat  fierce,  and  a  great  voice.*     He  was, 

•  Evelyn,  iL  207,  ed.  185a 


CHARACTER    OF   CHARLES    II.  49 

says  Saville,  an  illustrious  exception  to  all  the  common  rules  of 
physiognomy;  for,  with  a  most  saturnine,  harsh  countenance, 
he  was  both  of  a  merry  and  merciful  disposition.  His  eyes 
were  large  and  fine ;  and  his  face  so  swarthy,  that  Monk,  be- 
fore the  Restoration,  used  to  toast  him  as  "the  black  boy."* 
"Is  this  like  me  ? "  he  said  to  Riley,  who  had  just  completed 
his  portrait ;  then,  odd's  fish !  (his  favourite  phrase),  I  am  an 
ugly  fellow."  Riley,  however,  must  have  done  him  an  injus- 
tice :  certainly,  at  all  events,  he  is  not  an  ugly  fellow  on  the 
canvas  of  Lely,  in  the  miniatures  of  Cooper,  the  sculpture  of 
Gibbons,  or  the  coins  of  Simon. 

He  lived  a  Deist,  but  did  not  care  to  think  on  the  subject 
of  religion,  though  he  died  professedly  a  Roman  Catholic.  His 
father  had  been  severe  with  him,  and  once,  while  at  sermon 
at  St.  Mary's  in  Oxford,  had  struck  him  on  the  head  with  his 
staff  for  laughing  at  some  of  the  ladies  sitting  opposite  to  him.f 
Later  in  life  the  ill-bred  familiarity  of  the  Scottish  divines 
had  given  him  a  distaste  for  Presbyterian  discipline,  while  the 
heats  and  animosities  between  the  members  of  the  Established 
Church  and  the  Nonconformists  with  which  his  reien  com- 
menced  made  him  think  indifferently  of  both.  His  religion 
was  that  of  a  young  prince  in  his  warm  blood,  whose  inquiries 
were  applied  more  to  discover  arguments  against  belief  than  in 
its  favour.  The  wits  about  his  Court,  who  found  employment 
in  laughing  at  Scripture — 

All  by  the  King's  example  liv'd  and  lov'd — 

delighted  in  turning  to  ridicule  what  the  preachers  said  in  their 
sermons  before  him,  and  in  this  way  induced  him  to  look  upon 
the  clergy  as  a  body  of  men  who  had  compounded  a  religion 
for  their  own  advantage.  J     So  strongly  did  this  feeling  take 

*  Hinton's  Memoirs,  p.  29.  f  Dr.  Lake's  Diary,  p.  26. 

X  Clarendon's  Life,  iii.  3,  ed.  1826. 


50  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   G\VYN. 

root  In  him,  that  he  at  length  resigned  himself  to  sleep  at  ser- 
mon time — not  even  South  or  Barrow  having  the  art  to  keep 
him  awake.  In  one  of  these  half-hours  of  sleep  when  in  chapel, 
he  is  known  to  have  missed,  doubtless  with  regret,  the  gentle 
reproof  of  South  to  Lauderdale  during  a  general  somnolency: 
— •*  My  lord,  my  lord,  you  snore  so  loud  you  will  wake  the 
King." 

He  loved  ease  and  quiet;  and  it  was  said,  not  untruly,  that 
there  was  as  much  of  laziness  as  of  love  in  all  those  hours  he 
passed  among  his  mistresses.  Few  things,  remarked  Burnet,* 
ever  went  near  his  heart.  It  was  a  trouble  to  him  to  think. 
Urithhiking7iess,  indeed,  was  said  by  Halifax  to  be  one  of  his 
characteristicsf — and 

Unthinking  Charles,  ruled  by  unthinking  thee, 

is  a  line  in  Lord  Rochester.  Sattntering  is  an  epithet  applied 
to  him  by  Sheffield,  Saville,  and  Wilmot.  He  chose  rather 
to  be  eclipsed  than  to  be  troubled,  to  receive  a  pension  from 
France  rather  than  ask  his  Parliament  for  subsidies. 

His  affection  for  his  children  was  worthy  of  a  better  man. 
He  loved  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  with  the  fondness  of  a  partial 
parent,  and  forgave  him  more  than  once  for  injuries,  almost 
amounting  to  crimes  of  magnitude,  personal  and  political.  The 
Duke  of  Grafton,  one  of  his  sons  by  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland, 
he  loved  "on  the  score  of  the  sea,"  J  and  for  the  frankness  of 
his  nature.  His  queen's  manners  and  society  he  never  could 
have  liked,  though  his  letter  to  Lord  Clarendon,  written  from 
Portsmouth,  upon  her  first  arrival,  is  ardent  In  passion,  and 
might  have  been  held  to  promise  the  most  constant  affection 
for  her  person. §     He  grew  at  last  to  believe  that  she  never 

•  Burnet,  ii.  469,  ed.  1S23.  f  Halifax,  p.  4. 

X  Pepys's  Tangier  Diary,  ii.  36. 
§  See  it  among  the  Lansdowne  MSS.  (1236)  in  the  British  Museum.    It  is  not  fit  to  print 


CHARACTER   OF    CHARLES    II.  5 1 

could  bring  him  an  heir,*  an  opinion  in  which  he  was  con- 
firmed by  the  people  about  him ;  but,  anxious  as  he  certainly 
was  for  another  wife,  he  rejected  with  scorn  a  proposition  that 
was  made  to  him  to  send  her  away  in  disguise  to  a  distant 
region.  His  steadiness  to  his  brother,  though  it  may  and 
indeed  must  in  a  great  measure  be  accounted  for  on  selfish 
principles,  had  at  least,  as  Fox  remarks,  a  strong  resemblance 
to  virtue.f  Prince  Rupert  he  looked  upon,  not  unjustly,  as  a 
madman. J  If  he  was  slow  to  reward  and  willing  to  forgive, 
he  was  not  prone  to  forget.  His  secret  service  expenses  record 
many  payments,  and  at  all  periods,  to  the  several  branches  of 
the  Penderells,  to  whom  he  was  indebted  for  his  preservation 
after  the  battle  of  Worcester. § 

He  lived  beloved,  and  died  lamented,  by  a  very  large  por- 
tion of  his  people.  What  helped  to  endear  him  has  been  hap- 
pily expressed  by  Waller : 

the  first  English  bom 


That  has  the  crown  of  these  three  kingdoms  worn. 

Then,  the  way  in  which  he  was  seen  in  St.  James's  Park 
feeding  his  ducks;  ||  or  in  the  Mall  playing  a  manly  game 
with  great  skill ;  1[  or  at  the  two  theatres  encouraging  Eng- 
lish authors,  and  commending  English  actors  and  actresses, 
added  to  his  popularity.  He  really  mixed  with  his  sub- 
jects ;  and  though  a  standing  army  was  first  established  in 
his  reign,  it  was  needed  more  for  his  throne  than  for  his 
person. 

He  did  not  study  or  care  for  the  state  which  most  of  his 
predecessors  before  him  had  assumed,  and  was  fond  of  drop- 

*  Clarendon's  Life,  Hi.  60,  ed.  1826.  f  Fox's  James  II.,  p.  70. 

X  Pepys's  Tangier  Diary,  ii.  36. 
§  Printed  for  the  Camden  Society.     Mr.  Macaulay  says,  harshly  enough — ' '  Never  was 
there  a  mind  on  which  both  services  and  injuries  left  such  faint  and  transitory  impressions." 
I  Cibber's  Apology,  p.  26,  8vo,  1740.  J  Waller's  poem  "  On  St.  James's  Park." 


52  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   G\VYN. 

ping  the  formality  of  a  sovereign  for  the  easy  character  of 

a  companion.     He  had  lived,  when  in  exile,  upon  a  footing  of 

equality  with  his  banished  nobles,  and  had  partaken  freely  and 

promiscuously  in  the  pleasures  and  frolics  by  which  they  had 

endeavoured  to  sweeten  adversity.     He  was  led  in  this  way  to 

let  distinction  and  ceremony  fall  to  the  ground,  as  useless  and 

foppish,  and  could  not  even  on  premeditation,  it  is  said,  act  for 

a  moment  the  part  of  a  king  either  at  parliament  or  council, 

either  in  words  or  gesture.     When  he  attended  the  House  of 

Lords,  he  would  descend  from  the  throne  and  stand  by  the  fire, 

drawing  a  crowd  about  him  that  broke  up  all  the  regularity 

and  order  of  the  place.     In  a  very  little  time  he  would  have 

gone  round  the  House,  and  have  spoken  to  every  man  that 

he  thought  worth  speaking  to.*     He  carried  his  dogs  to  the 

council  table — 

His  very  dog  at  council  board 

Sits  grave  and  wise  as  any  lord,f 

and  allowed  them  to  lie  in  his  bed-chamber,  where  he  would 
often  suffer  them  to  pup  and  give  suck,  much  to  the  disgust  of 
Evelyn,  and  of  many  who  resided  at  court.J  His  very  speeches 
to  his  parliament  contain  traits  of  his  personal  character.  "  The 
mention  of  my  wife's  arrival,"  he  says,  "puts  me  in  mind  to 
desire  you  to  put  that  compliment  upon  her,  that  her  entrance 
into  the  town  may  be  with  more  decency  than  the  ways  will 
now  suffer  it  to  be,  and  for  that  purpose  I  pray  you  would 
quickly  pass  such  laws  as  are  before  you,  in  order  to  the 
amending  those  ways,   and  that  she  may  not  find  Whitehall 

*  Burnet,  i.  472,  3,  ed.  1823.  In  his  speech  in  the  House  of  Commons,  March  i,  1661, 
he  says — "In  a  word,  I  know  most  of  your  faces  and  names,  and  can  never  hope  to  find 
better  men  in  your  places." 

f  Lord  Rochester's  Poem,  1697,  p.  150. 

$  Evelyn,  vol.  ii.,  p,  207,  ed.  1S50.  Charles  was  fond  of  animals  and  natural  history. 
In  the  Works  Accounts  at  Whitehall  for  1667-8, 1  observe  a  payment  for  "  the  posts  whereon 
the  king's  bees  stand." 


CHARACTER    OF   CHARLES    II.  53 

surrounded  by  water."  *  Nothing  but  his  character,  as  Sir 
Robert  Walpole  observed  of  Sir  William  Yonge,  could  keep 
down  his  parts,  and  nothing  but  his  parts  support  his  char- 
acter. 

--  ^  His  mistresses  were  as  different  in  their  humours  as  in  their 
looks.  He  did  not  care  to  choose  for  himself,  so  that,  as  Hali- 
fax observes,  it  was  resolved  generally  by  others  whom  he 
should  have  in  his  arms  as  well  as  whom  he  should  have  in  his 
councils.  Latterly  he  lived  under  the  traditional  influence  of 
his  old  engagements ;  and,  though  he  had  skill  enough  to  sus- 
pect, he  had  wit  enough  not  to  care.f  His  passion  for  Miss 
Stuart,  as  I  have  already  said,  was  a  stronger  feeling  of  attach- 
ment than  he  is  thought  to  have  entertained  for  any  body 
else.J 

His  understanding  was  quick  and  lively;  but  he  had  little 
reading,  and  that  tending  to  his  pleasures  more  than  to  in- 
struction. He  had  read  men  rather  than  books.  The  Duke 
of  Buckingham  happily  characterized  the  two  brothers  in  a 
conversation  with  Burnet: — **The  King,"  he  said,  "could  see 
things  if  he  would,  and  the  Duke  would  see  things  if  he 
could."  §  Nor  was  the  observation  of  Tom  Killigrew,  made 
to  the  King  himself  in  Cowley's  hearing,  without  its  point. 
This  privileged  wit,  after  telling  the  King  the  ill  state  of  his 
affairs,  was  pleased  to  suggest  a  way  to  help  all.  "There  is," 
says  he,  "  a  good  honest  able  man  that  I  could  name,  whom  if 
your  majesty  would  employ,  and  command  to  see  things  well 
executed,  all  things  would  soon  be  mended,  and  this  is  one 
Charles  Stuart,  who  now  spends  his  time  in  employing  his  lips 
about  the  court,  and  hath  no  other  employment ;  but  if  you 
would  give  him  this  employment,  he  were  the  fittest  man  in 

*  speech,  March  i,  1661-2.     See  the  allusion  explained  in  my  "  Handbook  for  London," 
art.  Whitehall.  f  Halifax's  Character,  p.  21. 

J  Clarendon's  Life,  iii.  61,  ed.  1S26.  §  Burnet,  i.  288,  ed.  1823. 


54  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

the  world  to  perform  it."*  He  had  what  Sheffield  called  the 
foible  of  his  family,  to  be  easily  imposed  upon ;  for,  as  Claren- 
don truly  remarks,  it  was  the  unhappy  fate  of  the  Stuart  family 
to  trust  too  much  on  all  occasions  to  others,  f  To  such  an 
extent  did  he  carry  unnecessary  confidence,  that  he  would 
sign  papers  without  inquiring  what  they  were  about. J 

He  drew  well  himself,  §  was  fond  of  mathematics,  forti- 
fication, and  shipping;  knew  the  secrets  of  many  empirical 
medicines,  passed  many  hours  in  his  laboratory,  and  in  the 
very  month  in  which  he  died  was  running  a  process  for  fixing 
mercury.  II  The  Observatory  at  Greenwich,  and  the  Mathe- 
matical School  at  Christ's  Hospital,  are  enduring  instances  of 
his  regard  for  science. 

He  had  all  the  hereditary  love  of  the  Stuarts  for  poetry 
and  poets,  and  in  this  respect  was  certainly  different  from 
George  II.,  who  considered  a  poet  in  the  light  of  a  mechanic. H 
He  carried  Hudibras  about  in  his  pocket,**  protected  its  publi- 
cation by  his  royal  warrant,  but  allowed  its  author  to  starve. 
Nor  was  this  from  want  of  admiration,  but  from  indolence. 
Patronage  had  been  a  trouble  to  him.      The  noble  song  of 

Shirley — 

The  glories  of  our  blood  and  state, 

was  often  sung  to  him  by  old  Bowman,  and,  while  he  enjoyed 
the  poetry,  he  could  have  cared  but  little  for  the  moral  grand- 
eur which  pervades  it.  He  suggested  the  Medal  to  Dryden  as 
a  subject  for  a  poem  while  walking  in  the  Mall.  "  If  I  was  a 
poet,"  he  said,  "and  I  think  I  am  poor  enough  to  be  one,  I 
would  write  a  poem  on  such  a  subject  in  the  following  man- 

*  Pepys,  8  Dec,  1666.  f  Clarendon's  Life,  iii.  63,  ed.  1826. 

fBumet,  i.  417,  ed.  1823.  §  Walpole's  Anecdotes,  by  Womum,  p.  427. 

[Burnet,  ii.  254,  ed,  1823.  Among  the  satires  attributed  to  Villiers,  Duke  of  Bucking 
ham,  is  one  on  Charles  IL,  called  "  The  Cabin  Boy." 

T[  Lord  Chesterfield's  Works,  by  Lord  Mahon,  ii.  441. 

**  Dennis's  Reflections  on  Pope's  Essay  on  Criticism,  p.  23. 


CHARACTER    OF   CHARLES    II.  55 

ner." — Dryden  took  the  hint,  carried  his  poem  to  the  King, 
and  had  a  hundred  broad  pieces  for  it.*-^  A  good  new  comedy, 
we  are  told  by  Dennis,  took  the  next  place  in  his  list  of  likings 
immediately  after  his  last  new  mistress.  In  points  connected 
with  the  stage  he  was  even  more  at  home  than  in  matters  of 
poetry,  insomuch  that  the  particular  differences,  pretensions,  or 
complaints  of  the  actors  were  generally  ended  by  the  King's 
personal  command  or  decision. f  This,  however,  he  would  at 
times  carry  to  excess,  and  it  has  been  even  said,  that  "  he 
would  hear  anybody  against  anybody."  One  of  his  latest  acts 
was  to  call  the  attention  of  the  poet  Crowne  to  the  Spanish  play 
"No  Puedeser;  or.  It  cannot  be,"  and  to  command  him  to  write 
a  comedy  on  a  somewhat  similar  foundation.  To  this  sugges- 
tion it  is  that  we  owe  the  good  old  comedy  of  "  Sir  Courtly 
Nice."t 

He  hated  flattery, §  was  perfectly  accessible,  would  stop  and 
talk  with  Hobbes,  or  walk  through  the  park  with  Evelyn,  or 
any  other  favourite.  Steele  remembered  to  have  seen  him 
more  than  once  leaning  on  D'Urfey's  shoulder,  and  humming 
over  a  song  with  him.||  Hume  blames  him  for  not  preserving 
Otway  from  his  sad  end ;  but  Otway  died  in  the  next  reign, 
more  from  accident  than  neglect. 

His  passion  for  music  (he  preferred  the  violin  to  the  viol)  is 
not  ill  illustrated  in  the  well-known  jingle — 

Four-and-twenty  fiddlers  all  in  a  row, 

And  there  was  fiddle-fiddle,  and  twice  fiddle-fiddle,  &c., 

written  on  his  enlargement  of  his  band  of  fiddlers  to  four-and- 
twenty, — his  habit,  while  at  his  meals,  of  having,  according  to 
the  French  mode,  twenty-four  violins  playing  before  him  ;  H  or 

*Spence's  Anecdotes,  p.  171.  f  Gibber's  Apology,  p.  75,  ed.  1740. 

jCrowne's  Preface  to  Sir  Courtly  Nice,  4to,  1685. 
§  Temple's  Works,  ii.  409,  ed.  1770,  J  The  Guardian. 

T  Antony  A.  Wood's  Life,  ed.  Bliss,  8vo,  p.  70. 


56  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   G^V\'N. 

by  his  letters  written  during  his  exile.  "  We  pass  our  time  as 
well  as  people  can  do,"  he  observes,  "  that  have  no  more  money, 
for  we  dance  and  play  as  if  we  had  taken  the  Plate  fleet " ;  * 
"  Pray  get  me  pricked  down,"  he  adds  in  another,  "  as  many 
new  corrants  and  sarabands  and  other  little  dances  as  you  can, 
and  bring  them  with  you,  for  I  have  got  a  small  fiddler  that 
does  not  play  ill."t 

Like  others  of  his  race,  like  James  I.  and  James  V.  of  Scot- 
land, like  his  father  and  his  grandfather,  he  was  occasionally  a 
poet.  A  song  of  his  composition  is  certainly  characteristic  of 
his  way  of  life :  — 

I  pass  all  my  hours  in  a  shady  old  grove, 
But  I  live  not  the  day  when  I  see  not  my  love  ; 
I  survey  every  walk  now  my  Phillis  is  gone, 
And  sigh  when  I  think  v/e  were  there  all  alone  ; 

O  then,  'tis  O  then,  that  I  think  there's  no  hell 

Like  loving,  like  loving  too  well. 

But  each  shade  and  each  conscious  bow'r  when  I  find. 
Where  I  once  have  been  happy,  and  she  has  been  kind  ; 
"When  I  see  the  print  left  of  her  shape  on  the  green, 
And  imagine  the  pleasure  may  yet  come  again  ; 

O  then  'tis  I  think  that  no  joys  are  above 

The  pleasures  of  love. 

While  alone  to  myself  I  repeat  all  her  charms, 
She  I  love  may  be  lock'd  in  another  man's  arms. 
She  may  laugh  at  my  cares,  and  so  false  she  may  be, 
To  say  all  the  kind  things  she  before  said  to  me  : 

O  then,  'tis  O  then,  that  I  think  there's  no  hell 

Like  loving  too  well. 

But  when  I  consider  the  truth  of  her  heart. 
Such  an  innocent  passion,  so  kind  without  art ; 

♦Mis.  AuHca,  p.  117. 

f  Ellis's  Letters,  2nd  series,  vol.  iii.  p.  376.  and  Mis.  Aul.  p.  155. 


CHARACTER    OF   CHARLES    II.  57 

I  fear  I  have  wronged  her,  and  hope  she  may  be 
So  full  of  true  love  to  be  jealous  of  me  : 

And  then  'tis  I  think  that  no  joys  are  above 

The  pleasures  of  love.* 

That  he  understood  foreign  affairs  better  than  all  his  coun- 
cils and  counsellors  put  together  was  the  repeated  remark  of 
the  Lord  Keeper  Guildford.  In  his  exile  he  had  acquired 
either  a  personal  acquaintance  with  most  of  the  eminent  states- 
men in  Europe,  or  else  from  such  as  could  instruct  him  he 
had  received  their  characters : — and  this  knowledge,  the  Lord 
Keeper  would  continue,  he  perpetually  improved  by  convers- 
ing with  men  of  quality  and  ambassadors,  whom  he  would  sift, 
and  by  what  he  obtained  from  them  ("possibly  drunk  as  well 
as  sober"),  would  serve  himself  one  way  or  other.  "When 
they  sought,"  his  lordship  added,  "to  sift  him — who,  to  give 
him  his  due,  was  but  too  open — he  failed  not  to  make  his  best 
of  them."  t 

His  love  of  wine  was  the  common  failinof  of  his  aee.  The 
couplet  which  I  shall  have  occasion  hereafter  to  include  amono- 
his  happy  replies — 

Good  store  of  good  claret  supplies  everything, 
And  the  man  that  is  drunk  is  as  great  as  a  king, 

affords  no  ill  notion  of  the  feeling  current  at  Whitehall.  When 
the  Duke  of  York,  after  dinner,  asked  Henry  Saville  if  he  in- 
tended to  invite  the  King  to  th^  business  of  the  day,  Saville 
wondered  what  he  meant,  and  incurred  the  displeasure  of  the 
Duke  by  continuing  the  King  in  the  belief  that  hard-drinking 
was  the  business  before  them.f 

*  From  Choice  Ayres,  Songs,  &c.,  1G76,  folio;  see  also  Roger  North's  Memoirs  of 
Musick,  4to,  1846,  p.  104  ;  Hawkins's  History  of  Music,  v.  447  ;  and  Park's  ed.  of  Walpole's 
Royal  and  Noble  Authors,  1.  154.  \  North,  ii.  102,  ed.  1826. 

^Lady  R,  Russell's  Letters,  by  Miss  Berry,  p.  177. 


58  THE   STORY   OF   NELL   GWYN. 

His  great  anxiety  was  the  care  of  his  health,  thinking  it, 
perhaps,  more  reconcileable  with  his  pleasures  than  he  really 
found  it.  He  rose  early,  walked  generally  three  or  four  hours 
a  day  by  his  watch,  and  when  he  pulled  it  out  skilful  men,  it  is 
said,  would  make  haste  with  what  they  had  to  say  to  him.  He 
walked  so  rapidly  wnth  what  Teonge  calls  "his  wonted  large 
pace,"  *  that  it  was  a  trouble,  as  Burnet  observes,  for  others  to 
keep  up  with  him.  This  rapid  walk  gives  a  sting  to  the  saying 
of  Shaftesbur)',  that  "he  would  leisurely  walk  his  IVIajesty  out 
of  his  dominions,"  t  while  it  explains  his  advice  to  his  nephew 
Prince  George  of  Denmark,  when  he  complained  to  Charles  of 
growing  fat  since  his  marriage,  **  Walk  with  me,  hunt  with  my 
brother,  and  do  justice  on  my  niece,  and  you  will  not  be  fat."  \ 

His  ordinary  conversation — and  much  of  his  time  was  passed 
in  "discoursing,"  § — hovered  too  frequently  between  profanity 
and  indecency,  and  in  its  familiarity  was  better  adapted  to  his 
condition  before  he  was  restored  than  afterwards.  Yet  it  had 
withal  many  fascinations  of  which  the  best  talker  might  be 
proud — possessing  a  certain  softness  of  manner  that  placed  his 
hearers  at  ease,  and  sent  them  away  enamoured  with  what  he 
said.  II  When  he  thought  fit  to  unbend  entirely  he  exhibited 
great  quickness  of  conception,  much  pleasantness  of  wit,  with 
great  variety  of  knowledge,  more  observation  and  truer  judg- 
ment of  men  than  one  would  have  imagined  by  so  careless  and 
easy  a  manner  as  was  natural  to  him  in  all  he  said  or  did.H 
Such  at  least  is  the  written  opinion  of  Sir  William  Temple. 
His  speech  to  La  Belle  Stuart,  who  resisted  all  his  impor- 
tunities,— that  he  hoped  he  should  live  to  see  her  "ugly  and 
willing ; "  "* — his  letter  to  his  sister  on  hearing  of  her  preg- 

*  Teonge's  Diary,  p.  232.  f  Sprat's  Account  of  the  Rye  House.  Plot. 

J  Antony  A.  Wood's  Life,  ed.  Bliss,  p.  260.       §  North's  Lives,  ed.  1826,  ii. 
I  Burnet,  ii.  467,  ed.  1823.  T  Temple,  ii.  408,  ed.  1770. 

**  Lord  Dartmouth's  note  in  Burnet,  i.  436,  ed.  1823. 


CHARACTER    OF    CHARLES    II.  59 

nancy,*  and  his  speech  to  his  wife,  "  You  lie :  confess  and  be 
hanged,"t  must  be  looked  upon  in  connexion  with  the  out- 
spoken language  of  his  age — an  age  in  which  young  women, 
even  of  the  higher  classes,  conversed  without  circumspection 
and  modesty,  and  frequently  met  at  taverns  and  common  eat- 
ing-houses, t 

"  If  writers  be  just  to  the  memory  of  King  Charles  II.," 
says  Dryden,  addressing  Lord  Halifax,  "they  cannot  deny 
him  to  have  been  an  exact  knower  of  mankind,  and  a  perfect 
distinguisher  of  their  talents."  "It  is  true,"  he  continues,  "his 
necessities  often  forced  him  to  vary  his  counsellors  and  coun- 
sels, and  sometimes  to  employ  such  persons  in  the  management 
of  his  affairs  who  were  rather  fit  for  his  present  purpose  than 
satisfactory  to  his  judgment ;  but  where  it  was  choice  in  him, 
not  compulsion,  he  was  master  of  too  much  good  sense  to  de- 
light in  heavy  conversation ;  and,  whatever  his  favourites  of 
state  might  be,  yet  those  of  his  affection  were  men  of  wit."§ 

~  He  was  an  admirable  teller  of  a  story,  and  loved  to  talk  over 
the  incidents  of  his  life  to  every  new  face  that  came  about  him. 
His  stay  in  Scotland,  his  escape  from  Worcester,  and  the  share 
he  had  in  the  war  of  Paris,  in  carrying  messages  from  the  one 
side  to  the  other,  were  his  common  topics.  He  went  over 
these  in  a  very  graceful  manner,  but  so  often  and  so  copiously, 
says  Burnet,  that  all  those  who  had  been  long  accustomed  to 
them  were  soon  weary,  and  usually  withdrew,  so  that  he  often 
began  them  in  a  full  audience,  and  before  he  had  done,  there 
were  not  above  four  or  five  left  about  him.  But  this  general 
unwillingness  to  listen  is  contradicted  by  Sheffield,  who  ob- 
serves that  many  of  his  ministers,  not  out  of  flattery,  but  for 
the  pleasure  of  hearing  it,  affected  an  ignorance  of  what  they 
had   heard  him    relate  ten    times  before,   treating  a  story  of 

*  Dalrymple's  Memoirs,  Appendix,  p.  21,  ed.  1773.  t  I'cpys- 

J  Clarendon's  Life,  i,  358,  ed.  1826.       §  Dryden — Dedication  of  King  Arthur,  4to,  1691. 


6o  THE   STORY   OF  NELL   GWYN. 

his  telling  as  a  good  comedy  that  bears  being  seen  often,  if 
well  acted.  This  love  of  talking  made  him,  it  is  said,  fond  of 
strangers  who  hearkened  to  his  stories  and  went  away  as  in  a 
rapture  at  such  uncommon  condescension  in  a  king;  while  the 
sameness  in  telling  caused  Lord  Rochester  to  observe,  that 
"  he  wondered  to  see  a  man  have  so  good  a  memory  as  to 
repeat  the  same  stor)'  without  losing  the  least  circumstance, 
and  yet  not  remember  that  he  had  told  it  to  the  same  persons 
the  very  day  before."  * 

He  was  undisturbed  by  libels;  enjoying  the  severities  of 
Wilmot,  enduring  and  not  resenting  the  bitter  personalities  of 
Sheffield.f  To  have  been  angry  about  such  matters  had  been 
a  trouble ;  he  therefore  let  them  alone,  banishing  Wilmot  only 
for  a  time  for  a  libel  which  he  had  given  him  on  himself,  and 
rewarding  Sheffield  for  a  satire  unsurpassed  for  boldness  in  an 
age  of  lampoons.  He  was  compared  to  Nero,  who  sung  while 
Rome  was  burning,  and  pardoned  the  malice  of  the  wit  in  the 
satire  of  the  comparison.  He  loved  a  laugh  at  court  as  much 
as  Nokes  or  Tony  Leigh  did  upon  the  stage. 

Yet  he  would  laugh  at  his  best  friends,  and  be 
Just  as  good  company  as  Nokes  or  Leigh.  J 

Few  indeed   escaped  his  wit,  and  rather  than   not  laugh  he 
would  turn  the  laugh  upon  himself. 

Words  or  promises  went  very  easily  from  him,§  and  his 
memory  was  only  good  in  such  matters  as  affection  or  caprice 
might  chance  to  determine.  Had  he  been  less  "unthinking," 
we  should  have  had  an  epic  from  the  muse  of  Drj'den,  "  but 


•Bumet,  i.  458,  ed.  1823. 

f  Lord  Rochester  to  Saville  relative  to  Mulgrave's  Essay  on  Satire.  (Malone's  Life  of 
Dr)den,  p.  134.)     See  also  Bumet,  i.  433,  ed.  1S23. 

^Mulgrave's  "Essay  on  Satire."  Mr.  Bolton  Comey  in  vol.  iii.  p.  162,  of  Notes  and 
Queries,  has  in  a  most  unanswerable  manner  vindicated  Mulgrave's  claim  to  the  authorship  of 
this  satire.  §  Bumet,  ii.  466. 


CHARACTER   OF   CHARLES   II.  6 1 

being  encouraged  only  with  fair  words  from  King  Charles  II.," 
writes  the  great  poet,  "my  little  salary  ill  paid,  and  no  prospect 
of  a  future  subsistence,  I  was  thus  discouraged  in  the  beginning 
of  my  attempt."  If  we  lost  King  Arthur,  we  gained  Absalom 
and  Achitophel.  Thus  discouraged,  Dryden  took  to  temporary 
subjects,  nor  let  us  regret  the  chance  that  drove  him  from  his 
heroic  poem. 

Among  the  most  reprehensible  of  the  minor  frailties  of  his 
life,  for  which  he  must  be  considered  personally  responsible, 
was  his  squandering  on  his  mistresses  the  70,000/.  voted  by 
the  House  for  a  monument  to  his  father,  and  his  thrusting  the 
Countess  of  Castlemaine  into  the  place  of  a  Lady  of  the  Bed- 
chamber to  his  newly-married  wife.  The  excuse  for  the  former 
fault,  that  his  father's  grave  was  unknown,  was  silly  in  the 
extreme,  and  has  since  been  proved  to  be  without  foundation ; 
while  his  letter  in  reply  to  the  remonstrance  of  Lord  Claren- 
don, not  to  appoint  his  mistress  to  a  place  of  honour  in  the 
household  of  his  wife,  assigns  no  reason  for  such  a  step,  while 
it  holds  out  a  threat  of  everlasting  enmity  should  Clarendon 
continue  to  oppose  his  will.''" 

One  of  his  favourite  amusements  was  fishing,  and  the 
Thames  at  Datchet  one  of  his  places  of  resort.  Lord  Roches- 
ter alludes  to  his  passion  for  the  sport  in  one  of  his  minor 
poems,f  and  among  his  household  expenses  is  an  allowance 
to  his  cormorant  keeper  for  his  repairing  yearly  into  the  north 
parts  of  England  "  to  take  haggard  cormorants  for  the  King's 
disport  in  fishing."  J     His  fancy  for  his  ducks  was  long  per- 

*  See  it  in  Lister's  Life  of  Clarendon,  vol.  iii.  p.  202. 

f  State  Poems,  8vo.  1697,  p.  43.  Rercsby's  Memoirs,  Svo.  1735,  p.  100.  Lord  Roches- 
ter's Poem  in  a  MS.  of  the  time,  is  headed  "  Flatfoot,  the  Gudgeon  Taker."  (MS.  in  pos- 
session of  R.  M.  Milncs,  Esq.,  M.  P.,  ii.  240.)  "  i  July,  1679.  Little  was  done  all  day  [at 
Windsor]  but  going  a  fishing.  At  night  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  came.  In  the  morning 
I  was  with  the  King  at  Mrs.  Nell's." — Henry  Sidney  Lord Romneys  Diary,  i.  20. 

J  Audit  Office  Enrolments,  (MSS.)  vi.  326. 


62  THE   STORY   OF   NELL   GWYN. 

petuated  in  the  public  accounts,  as  Berenger  observed,  when  a 
century  after  he  was  making  his  inquiries  at  the  Mews  for  his 
History  of  Horsemanship.  Struck  by  the  constant  introduc- 
tion of  a  charge  for  hemp-seed,  he  was  led  at  last  to  inquire  for 
what  purpose  the  seed  was  wanted.  That  none  was  used,  was 
at  once  admitted,  but  the  charge  had  been  regularly  made  since 
the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  and  that  seemed  sufficient  reason  for 
its  continuance  in  the  Mews  accounts.*  Many  an  abuse  has 
been  perpetuated  on  no  better  grounds. 
Such  was  Charles  II. ; 

Great  Pan  who  wont  to  chase  the  fair 
And  loved  the  spreading  oak  ;  f 

and  such  are  the  materials  from  which  David  Hume  and  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  Mr.  Fox  and  Mr.  Macaulay,  have  drawn  in  part 
their  characters  of  the  King.  But  there  are  other  materials 
for  a  true  understanding  of  the  man, 

A  merry  monarch,  scandalous  and  poor, 

and  these  are  his  sayings,  which  Walpole  loved  to  repeat,  and 
of  which  I  have  made  a  collection  in  the  following  chapter. 

*  Nichols's  Tatler,  8vo,  1786,  vol.  iii.  p.  361. 
f  Addison  "  To  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller." 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE   SAYINGS   OF   KING   CHARLES  II. 


"  I  HAVE  made  a  collection,"  said  Walpole,  "  of  the  witty  say- 
ings of  Charles  II.,  and  a  collection  of  bo7i-mots  by  people  who 
only  said  one  witty  thing  in  the  whole  course  of  their  lives."  * 
Both  these  collections  are,  it  is  believed,  unfortunately  lost. 
The  former  deficiency  I  have  however  attempted  to  supply  (I 
fear  imperfectly)  in  the  following  chapter ;  regarding  remark- 
able sayings  as  among  the  very  best  illustrations  of  individual 
character  and  manners. 

The  satirical  epitaph  written  upon  King  Charles  II.  at  his 
own  request,!  hy  his  witty  favourite  the  Earl  of  Rochester,  is 
said  to  be  not  more  severe  than  it  is  just : 

Here  lies  our  sovereign  lord  the  King, 

Whose  v/ord  no  man  relies  on  ; 
Who  never  said  a  foolish  thing. 

And  never  did  a  wise  one. 

How  witty  was  the  reply.  "The  matter,"  he  observed,  "was 
easily  accounted  for — his  discourse  was  his  own,  his  actions 
were  his  ministry's."  { 

A  good  story  of  the  King  and  the  Lord  Mayor  of  London 
at  a  Guildhall  dinner  has  been  preserved  to  us  in  the  Spectator. 
The  King's  easy  manner,  and  Sir  Robert  Viner's  due  sense  of 

*  Walpoliana,  vol,  i.  p.  58. 

f  So  Sir  Walter  Scott  in  Misc.  Prose  Works,  vol.  xxiv.  p.  171 — but  upon  what  authority  ? 

X  Hume's  History  of  England,  viii.  212. 


64  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

city  hospitality,  carried  the  dignitary  of  Guildhall  into  certain 
familiarities  not  altogether  graceful  at  any  time,  and  quite  out 
of  character  at  a  public  table.  The  King,  who  understood  very 
well  how  to  extricate  himself  from  difficulties  of  this  descrip- 
tion, gave  a  hint  to  the  company  to  avoid  ceremony,  and  stole 
off  to  his  coach,  which  stood  ready  for  him  in  Guildhall  Yard. 
But  the  Mayor  liked  his  Majesty's  company  too  well,  and  was 
grown  so  intimate  that  he  pursued  the  merry  sovereign,  and, 
catching  him  fast  by  the  hand,  cried  out  with  a  vehement  oath 
and  accent,  "  Sir,  you  shall  stay  and  take  t'other  bottle."  "  The 
airy  monarch,"  continues  the  narrator  of  the  anecdote,  "  looked 
kindly  at  him  over  his  shoulder,  and  with  a  smile  and  graceful 
air  (for  I  saw  him  at  the  time  and  do  now),  repeated  this  line 
of  the  old  song : 

He  that's  drunk  is  as  great  as  a  king,* 

and  immediately  turned  back  and  complied  with  his  landlord."! 
This  famous  anecdote  is  importantly  illustrated  by  a  letter  from 
the  Countess  Dowager  of  Sunderland  to  her  brother  Henry 
Sidney,  written  five  years  after  the  mayoralty  of  Sir  Robert 
Viner.  J  The  King  had  supped  with  the  Lord  Mayor ;  and 
the  aldermen  on  the  occasion  drank  the  Kincr's  health  over 
and  over  upon  their  knees,  wishing  every  one  hanged  and 
damned  that  would  not  serve  him  with  their  lives  and  fortunes. 
But  this  was  not  all.  As  his  guards  were  drunk,  or  said  to  be 
so,  they  would  not  trust  his  Majesty  with  so  insecure  an  escort, 
but  attended  him  themselves  to  Whitehall,  and,  as  the  lady- 
writer  observes,  "  all  went  merry  out  of  the  King's  cellar."     So 

*  In  Tate's  Cuckold's  Haven,  4to,  16S5,  is  the  following  couplet : 

Good  store  of  good  claret  supplies  every  thing, 
And  the  man  that  is  drunk  is  as  great  as  a  king. 

f  Spectator,  No.  462. 

X  Letter  of  March  12  [1679-80],  in  Henry  Sidney's  Diary,  &c.  vol.  i.  p.  300. 


SAYINGS    OF   CHARLES    II.  65 

much  was  this  accessibility  of  manner  in  the  King  acceptable 
to  his  people,  that  the  Mayor  and  his  brethren  waited  next  day 
at  Whitehall  to  return  thanks  to  the  King  and  Duke  for  the 
honour  they  had  done  them,  and  the  Mayor  confirmed  by  this 
reception  was  changed  from  an  ill  to  a  well  affected  subject. 

It  was  an  age  of  nicknames — the  King  himself  was  known 
as  "Old  Rowley,"  in  allusion  to  an  ill-favoured  but  famous 
horse  in  the  Royal  Mews.  Nor  was  the  cognomen  at  all  dis- 
agreeable to  him.  Mrs.  Holford,  a  young  lady  much  admired 
by  the  King,  was  in  her  apartments  singing  a  satirical  ballad 
upon  Old  Rowley  the  King,  when  he  knocked  at  her  door. 
Upon  her  asking  who  was  there,  he,  with  his  usual  good 
humour,  replied,  "Old  Rowley  himself,  madam." '^  Hobbes 
he  called  "the  Bear."  "Here  comes  the  Bear  to  be  baited," 
was  his  remark,  as  soon  as  he  saw  the  great  philosopher  sur- 
rounded by  the  wits  who  rejoiced  in  his  conversation.!  A 
favourite  yacht  received  from  him  the  name  oi  Ftibbs — in  hon- 
our of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  who  was  become  notably 
plump  in  her  person.  J  The  queen  he  called  "a  bat,"  in  allu- 
sion to  her  short,  broad  figure,  her  swarthy  complexion,  and 
the  projection  of  her  upper  lip  from  a  protuberant  foretooth.  § 

His  politeness  was  remarkable,  and  he  could  convey  a  re- 
buke in  the  style  of  a  wit  and  a  gentleman.  When  Penn  stood 
before  him  with  his  hat  on — the  King  put  off  his.  "  Friend 
Charles,"  said  Penn,  "why  dost  thou  not  keep  on  thy  hat?" 
"Tis  the  custom  of  this  place,"  replied  the  monarch,  "that  only 
one  person  should  be  covered  at  a  time."  |1  The  well-known 
English  schoolmaster.  Busby,  excused  himself  to  the  King  for 
wearing  his  hat  in  his  Majesty's  presence  in  his  own  school  at 

*  Granger's  Biog.  Hist.  iv.  50,  ed.  1775. 

f  Aubrey's  Life  of  Hobbes.  See  also  Tom  Crown,  i.  174,  "  King  Charles  II.  compared 
old  Hobbes  to  a  bear."  \  Hawkins's  History  of  Music,  iv.  359,  n. 

§  Lord  Dartmouth  in  Burnet,  i.  299,  ed.  1S23.  |  Grey's  Hudibras,  i.  376. 


66  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   G\VYN. 

Westminster — "  If  I  were  seen  without  my  hat,  even  in  the 
presence  of  your  Majesty,  the  boys'  respect  for  me  would  cer- 
tainly be  lessened."  The  excuse,  such  is  the  tradition  at  West- 
minster, was  at  once  admitted,  and  Busby  wore  his  hat  before 
the  King,  as  he  still  is  seen  to  wear  it  in  his  portrait  in  the 
Bodleian. 

When  reprimanded  by  one  of  his  courtiers  for  loading  or 
interlarding  his  discourse  with  unnecessary  oaths,  he  defended 
himself  by  saying,  "  Your  martyr  swore  twice  more  than  ever 
I  did."'"'  And,  in  allusion  again  to  his  father's  character,  he 
observed  to  Lord  Keeper  Guildford,  who  was  musing  some- 
what pensively  on  the  woolsack,  "  My  Lord,  be  of  good  com- 
fort, I  will  not  forsake  my  friends  as  my  father  did."t  To 
Reresby  he  remarked,  '*  Do  not  trouble  yourself;  I  will  stick 
by  you  and  my  old  friends,  for  if  I  do  not  I  shall  have  nobody 
stick  to  me ;  "  and  on  another  occasion  he  said  to  the  same 
memorialist,  "  Let  them  do  what  they  will,  I  will  never  part 
with  any  officer  at  the  request  of  either  House ;  my  father  lost 
his  head  by  such  compliance,  but  as  for  me,  I  intend  to  die 
another  way."  J 

While  Prince,  seeing  a  soldier  of  the  parliament — one  of 
Cromwell's  ofificers,  and  one  active  against  the  King — led 
through  the  streets  of  Oxford  as  a  prisoner,  he  asked  what 
they  designed  to  do  with  him.  They  said  they  were  carry- 
ing him  to  the  King,  his  father;  "Carry  him  rather  to  the 
gallows  and  hang  him  up,"  was  the  reply;  "for  if  you  carry 
him  to  my  father  he'll  surely  pardon  him."§  This  was  assur- 
edly not  cruelty  in  Charles — but  merely  an  odd  specimen  of 
his  ever  playful  temperament. 


*Rev.  Mr,  Watson's  Apologfy  for  his  conduct  on  Jan.  30,  8vo,  1756,  p.  34,  and  Malone's 
Shakespeare,  by  Boswell,  iii.  235.  f  North,  i.  387. 

^Reresby's  Memoirs,  ed.  1735,  pp.  103,  105. 
§  Dr.  Lake's  Diary  in  Camden  Miscellany,  vol.  i. 


SAYINGS   OF   CHARLES   II.  d"] 

He  was  altogether  in  favour  of  extempore  preaching,  and 
was  unwilling  to  listen  to  the  delivery  of  a  written  sermon. 
Patrick  excused  himself  from  a  chaplaincy,  "finding  it  very 
difficult  to  get  a  sermon  without  book."*  On  one  occasion 
the  King  asked  the  famous  Stillingfleet,  **  How  it  was  that  he 
always  read  his  sermons  before  him,  when  he  was  informed  that 
he  always  preached  without  book  elsewhere  ?  "  Stillingfleet 
answered  something  about  the  awe  of  so  noble  a  congregation, 
the  presence  of  so  great  and  wise  a  prince,  with  which  the 
King  himself  was  very  well  contented.  "  But  pray,"  continued 
Stillingfleet,  "will  your  Majesty  give  me  leave  to  ask  you  a 
question?  Why  do  you  read  your  speeches  when  you  have 
none  of  the  same  reasons  ?  "  "  Why  truly,  doctor,"  replied  the 
King,  "  your  question  is  a  very  pertinent  one,  and  so  will  be 
my  answer.  I  have  asked  the  two  Houses  so  often  and  for  so 
much  money,  that  I  am  ashamed  to  look  them  in  the  face."  f 
This  "  slothful  way  of  preaching,"  for  so  the  King  called  it, 
had  arisen  during  the  civil  wars ;  and  Monmouth,  when  Chan- 
cellor of  the  University  of  Cambridge,  in  compliance  with  the 
order  of  the  King,  directed  a  letter  to  the  University  that  the 
practice  of  reading  sermons  should  be  wholly  laid  aside.  J 

When  Cosins,  Bishop  of  Durham,  reminded  the  King  that 
he  had  presumed  to  recommend  Sancroft  and  Sudbury  as  chap- 
lains to  his  Majesty,  the  King  replied,  "  My  Lord,  recommend 
two  more  such  to  me,  and  I  will  return  you  any  four  I  have  for 
them."  § 

One  of  his  replies  to  Sir  Christopher  Wren  is  characteristic 
both  of  the  monarch  and  his  architect.  The  King  was  inspect- 
ing the  new  apartments  which  Wren  had  built  for  him  in  his 
hunting-palace  in  Newmarket,  and  observed  that  "  he  thought 
the  rooms  too  low."     Sir  Christopher,  who  was  a  little  man, 

*  Patrick's  Autobiography,  p.  66.  t  Richardsoniana,  p.  89. 

jWilldns's  Concilia,  iv.  594.         »         §Dr.  Lake's  Diary  in  Camden  Miscellany,  vol.  L 


68  THE    STORY    OF   NELL    GWYN. 

walked  round  them,  and  looking  up  and  about  him,  said,  "  I 
think,  and  it  please  your  Majesty,  they  are  high  enough." 
Charles,  squatting  down  to  his  architect's  height,  and  creeping 
about  in  this  whimsical  posture,  cried,  "Aye,  Sir  Christopher, 
I  think  they  are  high  enough."  * 

The  elder  Richardson  was  fond  of  telling  a  characteristic 
story  of  the  King  and  kingly  honour.  A  cutpurse,  or  pick- 
pocket, with  as  much  effrontery  of  face  as  dexterity  of  finger, 
had  got  into  the  drawing-room  on  the  King's  birthday,  dressed 
like  a  gentleman,  and  was  detected  by  the  King  himself  taking 
a  gold  snuff-box  out  of  a  certain  Earl's  pocket.  The  rogue, 
who  saw  his  sovereign's  eye  upon  him,  put  his  finger  to  his 
nose,  and  made  a  sign  to  the  King  with  a  wink  to  say  nothing. 
Charles  took  the  hint,  and,  watching  the  Earl,  enjoyed  his  feel- 
ing first  in  one  pocket  and  then  in  another  for  his  missing  box. 
The  KincT  now  called  the  nobleman  to  him:  "You  need  not 
give  yourself,"  he  said,  "any  more  trouble  about  it,  my  Lord, 
your  box  is  gone ;  I  am  myself  an  accomplice : — I  could  not 
help  it,  I  was  made  a  confidant."  f 

Of  his  graver  and  deeper  remarks  Drj'den  has  preserved  a 
specimen.  "  I  remember  a  saying,"  writes  the  poet,  "  of  King 
Charles  II.  on  Sir  Matthew  Hale  (who  was,  doubtless,  an 
uncorrupted  and  upright  man),  that  his  servants  were  sure  to 
be  cast  on  any  trial  which  was  heard  before  him ;  not  that  he 
thought  the  judge  was  possibly  to  be  bribed,  but  that  his  integ- 
rity might  be  too  scrupulous ;  and  that  the  causes  of  the  crown 
were  always  suspicious  when  the  privileges  of  subjects  were  con- 
cerned." J  The  wisdom  of  the  remark  as  respects  Sir  Matthew 
Hale,  is  confirmed  by  Roger  North  :  "If  one  party  was  a 
courtier,"  says  North,  "and  well  dressed,  and  the  other  a  sort 
of  puritan,  with  a  black  cap  and  plain  clothes.  Hale  insensibly 

*  Richardsoniana,  p.  187.  f  Richardsoniana,  p.  103. 

J  Dryden's  Prose  Works,  by  Maloae,  iv.  156. 


SAYINGS    OF   CHARLES   II.  69 

thought  the  justice  of  the  cause  with  the  latter."  *  Nor  has  it 
passed  without  the  censure  of  Johnson:  "A  judge,"  said  the 
great  Doctor,  "  may  be  partial  otherwise  than  to  the  Crown ; 
we  have  seen  judges  partial  to  the  populace."  f 
"5^  His  easy,  gentlemanlike  way  of  expressing  disapprobation 
is  exemplified  in  a  saying  to  which  I  have  already  had  occasion 
to  refer:  *'Is  that  like  me?"  he  asked  Riley  the  painter,  to 
whom  he  had  sat  for  his  portrait — "then,  odds  fish!  I  am  an 
ugly  fellow."  J 

When  told  that  the  Emperor  of  Morocco  had  made  him  a 
present  of  two  lions  and  thirty  ostriches,  he  laughed  and  said, 
"  He  knew  nothing  more  proper  to  send  by  way  of  return  than 
a  flock  of  geese."  § 

Of  Harrow  Church,  standing  on  a  hill  and  visible  for  many 
miles  round,  he  is  said  to  have  remarked  "  that  it  was  the  only 
visible  church  he  knew ; "  ||  and  when  taken  to  see  a  fellow 
climb  up  the  outside  of  a  church  to  its  very  pinnacle  and  there 
stand  on  his  head,  he  offered  him,  on  coming  down,  a  patent  to 
prevent  any  one  doing  it  but  himself.  \ 

"  Pray,"  he  said  at  the  theatre,  while  observing  the  grim 
looks  of  the  murderers  in  Macbeth,  "  pray  what  is  the  reason  that 
we  never  see  a  rogue  in  a  play,  but,  odds  fish  !  they  always 
clap  him  on  a  black  perriwig,  when  it  is  well  known  one  of  the 
greatest  rogues  in  England  always  wears  a  fair  one?"  The 
allusion  was,  it  is  asserted,  to  Gates,  but,  as  I  rather  suspect, 
to  Shaftesbury.  The  saying,  however,  was  told  by  Betterton 
to  Cibber."""* 

He  was  troubled  with   intercessions  for  people  who  were 


•  North,  i.  119.  \  Boswell,  by  Croker,  p.  448,  ed.  1S48. 

X  Walpole's  Anecdotes.  §  Reresby's  Memoirs,  ed.  1735,  p.  132. 

\  Remarks  on  Squire  Ayre's  Life  of  Pope.     i2mo,  1745,  p.  12. 
T  Horace  Walpole,  in  Gent.'s  Mag.  for  January,  1S48. 
**  Gibber's  Apology,  ed.  1740,  p.  ill. 


JO  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   G\VYN. 

obnoxious  to  him,  and  once  when  Lord  Keeper  Guildford  was 
soHciting  his  favour  on  behalf  of  one  he  did  not  like,  he  ob- 
served facetiously,  "It  is  very  strange  that  every  one  of  my 
friends  should  keep  a  tame  knave."* 

One  day  while  the  King  was  being  shaved,  his  impudent 
barber  observed  to  him  that  "he  thought  none  of  his  Majesty's 
officers  had  a  greater  trust  than  he."  "  Oy,"  said  the  King, 
"how  so,  friend?  "  "Why,"  said  the  barber,  "  I  could  cut  your 
Majesty's  throat  when  I  would."  The  King  started  up  and 
said,  "  Odds  fish  !  that  very  thought  is  treason  ;  thou  shalt  shave 
me  no  more."  f  The  barber  of  Dionysius,  who  had  made  the 
same  remark,  was  crucified  for  his  garrulity ;  but  honest  Row- 
ley was  not  cruel.  His  loquacious  barber  was  only  dismissed. 
"  Falsehood  and  cruelty,"  he  said  to  Burnet,  "he  looked  on  as 
the  greatest  crimes  in  the  sight  of  God."  J 

Of  Woolley,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Clonfert,  he  observed 
wittily  and  with  great  knowledge  of  character,  that  "  He  was  a 
very  honest  man,  but  a  very  great  blockhead — that  he  had 
given  him  a  living  in  Suffolk,  swarming  with  Nonconformists 
— that  he  had  gone  from  house  to  house  and  brought  them  all 
to  Church — that  he  had  made  him  a  Bishop  for  his  diligence ; 
but  what  he  could  have  said  to  the  Nonconformists  he  could 
not  imagine,  except  he  believed  that  his  nonsense  suited  their 
nonsense."  § 

On  one  occasion  when  unable  or  unwilling  to  sleep,  he  was 
so  much  pleased  with  a  passage  in  a  sermon  by  South,  that  he 
laughed  outright,  and  turning  to  Laurence  Hyde  Lord  Roches- 
ter, "Odds  fish!  Lory,"  said  he,  "your  chaplain  must  be  a 
Bishop,  therefore  put  me  in  mind  of  him  next  vacancy."  ||     Of 

*  North's  Lives,  ii.  247,  ed.  1826.  f  Richardsoniana,  p.  106. 

J  Burnet,  ii.  i6g,  ed.  1823. 
§  Burnet,  i.  449,  ed.  1823.     The  story  is  spoilt  in  Walpoliana,  i.  58. 
1  Biographia  Britannica,  art,  "  South." 


SAYINGS    OF   CHARLES    II.  7 1 

Barrow,  he  said  that  "he  was  an  unfair  preacher,"*  because, 
as  it  has  been  explained,  he  exhausted  every  subject  and  left 
no  room  for  others  to  come  after  him ; — but  the  King's  allusion 
was  made  somewhat  slyly  to  the  length  as  well  as  excellence 
of  Barrow's  sermons,  f 

He  said  often  "  He  was  not  priest-ridden :  he  would  not 
venture  a  war  nor  travel  again  for  any  party."  f  Such  is 
Burnet's  story,  curiously  confirmed  as  it  is  by  Sir  Richard  Bul- 
strode's  conversation  with  the  King  on  his  former  exile  and 
the  then  condition  of  the  country.  "  I,"  said  the  King,  most 
prophetically  indeed,  "am  weary  of  travelling — I  am  resolved 
to  go  abroad  no  more ;  but  when  I  am  dead  and  gone,  I  know 
not  what  my  brother  will  do.  I  am  much  afraid  that  when  he 
comes  to  the  crown  he  will  be  obliged  to  travel  again."  § 

He  observed,  in  allusion  to  the  amours  of  the  Duke  of 
York  and  the  plain  looks  of  his  mistresses,  that  "he  believed 
his  brother  had  his  favourites  given  him  by  his  priests  for 
penance."  || 

After  taking  two  or  three  turns  one  morning  in  St.  James's 
Park,  the  King,  attended  only  by  the  Duke  of  Leeds  and  Lord 
Cromarty,  walked  up  Constitution  Hill  into  Hyde  Park.  Just 
as  he  was  crossing  the  road,  where  Apsley  House  now  is,  the 
Duke  of  York,  who  had  been  hunting  that  morning  on  Houns- 
low  Heath,  was  seen  returning  in  his  coach,  escorted  by  a 
party  of  the  Guards,  who,  as  soon  as  they  perceived  the  King, 
suddenly  halted,  and  stopped  the  coach.  The  Duke  being 
acquainted  with  the  occasion  of  the  halt,  immediately  got  out, 
and  after  saluting  the  King,  said  he  was  greatly  surprised  to 
find  his  Majesty  in  that  place,  with  so  small  an  attendance,  and 
that  he  thought  his  Majesty  exposed  himself  to  some  danger. 

*  Life  in  Biographia  Britannica.  f  Biographia  Britannica,  art.  "  Barrow." 

%  Burnet,  i.  356,  ed.  1823.  §  Sir  Richard  Bulstrode's  Memoirs,  p.  424. 

[  Burnet,  i.  288,  ed.  1823. 


72  THE   STORY   OF   NELL   G\VYN. 

"No  kind  of  danger,  James,"  \7as  the  reply:  "for  I  am  sure 
no  man  in  England  will  take  away  my  life  to  make  you  King." 
The  old  Lord  Cromarty  often  mentioned  this  anecdote  to  his 
friends.* 

"It  is  better  to  be  envied  than  pitied,"  was  his  observation 
to  Lord  Chancellor  Clarendon,  f 

"  He  that  takes  one  stone  from  the  Church,  takes  two  from 
the  Crown,"  was  another  of  his  sayings  preserved  by  Pepys.  1[ 

He  said  to  Lauderdale,  "  To  let  Presbytery  go,  for  it  was 
not  a  religion  for  gentlemen."  § 

That  "God  would  not  damn  a  man  for  a  little  irregular 
pleasure,"  he  observed  in  one  of  his  free  discourses  with  Burnet 
on  points  of  religion.  || 

If  his  short  characters  of  men  were  in  common  at  all  like 
the  one  that  has  been  preserved  to  us  of  Godolphin,  we  have 
lost  a  good  deal  by  the  lack  of  reporters.  Of  Godolphin,  when 
only  a  page  at  court,  he  said,  "  that  he  was  never  zn  the  way, 
and  never  ou^  of  the  way ; "  H  and  this  was  a  character,  says 
Lord  Dartmouth,  which  Godolphin  maintained  to  his  life's  end. 

When  told  by  Will.  Legge,  that  the  pardoning  of  Lord 
Russell  would,  among  other  things,  lay  an  eternal  obligation 
upon  a  very  great  and  numerous  family,  he  replied,  with  rea- 
son on  his  side,  "  All  that  is  true ;  but  it  is  as  true,  that  if  I  do 
not  take  his  life  he  will  soon  have  mine."  '^■"' 

Eager  for  the  marriage  of  the  Princess  Mary  to  the  Prince 
of  Orange,  on  being  reminded  of  his  promise  to  the  Duke  of 
York  (to  whom  the  match  was  unwelcome),  that  he  would  not 
dispose  of  the  daughter,  without  the  father's  consent,  he  replied 


*  King's  Anecdotes  of  his  Own  Times,  p.  6i. 
f  Clarendon's  Own  Life,  i.  412,  ed.  1827.  |  Pepys,  29  March,  1669. 

§  Burnet,  i.  184,  ed.  1823.  1  Burnet,  ii.  23,  ed.  1823. 

1[  Lord  Dartmouth  in  Burnet,  ii.  240,  ed.  1823. 

**  Lord  Dartmouth's  note  in  Burnet,  ii.  370,  ed.  1823. 


SAYINGS    OF   CHARLES    II.  73 

it  was  true  he  had  given  his  brother  such  a  promise,  "  but,  odds 
fish !  he  must  consent."  *  After  the  marriage  the  King  entered 
their  room  as  soon  as  they  were  in  bed,  and  drawing  the  cur- 
tains, cried  out  to  the  Prince — it  is  the  chaplain  who  tells  the 
story,  an  archdeacon  and  prebendary  of  Exeter,  whose  words  I 
would  fain  quote  in  full — "  Now,  Nephew.  Hey !  St.  George 
for  England !  "  f 

When  Bancroft,  dean  of  St.  Paul's,  was  brought  to  White- 
hall by  Will.  Chiffinch,  that  Charles  might  tell  him  in  person 
of  his  appointment  to  the  archbishopric  of  Canterbury,  the 
dean  urged  his  unfitness  for  that  office,  and  requested  his 
Majesty  to  bestow  it  on  some  more  worthy  person.  The  King 
replied,  **that,  whether  he  would  accept  the  Primacy  or  not, 
his  deanery  was  already  given  to  Dr.  Stillingfleet."  J 

When  Sir  John  Warner  turned  Papist  he  retired  to  a  con- 
vent, and  his  uncle.  Dr.  Warner,  who  was  one  of  the  King's 
physicians,  upon  apprehension  that  Sir  John  might  convert 
his  property  to  popish  uses,  pressed  his  Majesty  to  order  the 
Attorney-General  to  proceed  at  law  for  securing  his  estate  to 
himself,  as  next  male  heir;  "Sir  John  at  present,"  said  the 
King,  "  is  one  of  God  Almighty's  fools,  but  it  will  not  be  long 
before  he  returns  to  his  estate,  and  enjoys  it  himself."  § 

One  of  his  last  sayings  related  to  his  new  palace  at  Win- 
chester. Impatient  to  have  the  works  finished,  he  remarked 
that,  "a  year  was  a  great  time  in  his  life."  || 

When  he  was  on  his  death-bed  the  Queen  sent  him  a  mes- 
sage that  she  was  too  unwell  to  resume  her  post  by  the  couch, 
and  implored  pardon  for  any  offence  which  she  might  unwitt- 
ingly have  given.  "  She  asks  my  pardon,  poor  woman  !  "  cried 
Charles.     "  I  ask  hers  with  all  my  heart." 

*Lord  Dartmouth's  note  in  Burnet,  i.  ii8,  ed.  1823. 

f  Dr.  Lake's  Diary  in  Camden  Miscellany,  vol.  i.  %  Ibid. 

§  Secret  History  of  Whitehall.  1  North,  ii.  105,  ed.  1S26. 


74  THE    STORY    OF   NELL    G\VYN. 

In  almost  his  last  moments  he  apologised  to  those  who  had 
stood  round  him  all  nieht  for  the  trouble  he  had  caused.  "He 
had  been,"  he  said,  "  a  most  unconscionable  time  dying ;  but 
he  hoped  that  they  would  excuse  it."  *  A  similar  feeling  ruffled 
the  last  moments  of  the  polite  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  whose  only 
expressed  anxiety  related  to  his  friend  DayroUes  being  in  the 
room  without  a  chair  to  sit  down  upon. 

If  he  was  ready  at  a  reply  there  were  others  about  him 
who  were  not  less  happy.  When  he  called  Lord  Chancellor 
Shaftesbury,  in  his  own  hearing,  "  The  greatest  rogue  in  En- 
gland," the  reply  was — "  Of  a  subject,  Sir,  perhaps  I  am."  f 
Not  less  witty  was  the  sarcastic  answer  of  the  Lord  Dorset,  to 
whom  I  have  already  introduced  the  reader,  as  a  lover  of  Nell 
Gwyn.  The  Earl  had  come  to  court  on  Queen  Elizabeth's 
birthday,  long  kept  as  a  holiday  in  London  and  elsewhere,  and 
still,  I  believe,  observed  by  the  benchers  of  Gray's  Inn.  The 
King,  forgetting  the  day,  asked  "What  the  bells  rung  for?" 
The  answer  given,  the  King  asked  further,  "  How  it  came  to 
pass  that  her  birthday  was  still  kept,  while  those  of  his  father 
and  grandfather  were  no  more  thought  of  than  William  the 
Conqueror's?"  "Because,"  said  the  frank  peer  to  the  frank 
King,  "  she  being  a  woman  chose  men  for  her  counsellors,  and 
men  when  they  reign  usually  choose  women."  {  Of  the  same 
stamp  was  the  more  than  half-heard  aside  of  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, to  an  appeal  to  the  monarch  "  as  the  father  of  his 
people."  "  Of  a  good  many  of  them,"  whispered  the  author  of 
the  Rehearsal. 

I  have  referred  in  a  former  chapter  to  the  King's  partiality 
for  his  dogs  ;  one  species  of  which  is  still  celebrated  among  the 
fancy  as  King  Charles's  breed.     On  the  occasion  of  an  entry 

*  Macaulay,  i.  439. 

t  Preserved  by  the  witty  Lord  Chesterfield.     Works  by  Lord  Mahon,  ii.  334. 

X  Richardsoniana. 


SAYINGS    OF   CHARLES   II.  75 

into  Salisbury,  an  honest  Cavalier  pressed  forward  to  see  him, 
and  came  so  near  the  coach  that  his  Majesty  cautioned  the  poor 
man  not  to  cling  too  close  to  the  door  lest  one  of  the  little  black 
spaniels  in  the  coach  should  chance  to  bite  him.  The  loyalist 
still  persisting  in  being  near,  a  spaniel  seized  him  by  the  finger, 
and  the  sufferer  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  "  God  bless  your 
Majesty,  but  G — d  d — n  your  dogs."*  This  story  has  been 
preserved  to  us  by  the  mercurial  Duke  of  Wharton  as  an  illus- 
tration of  the  indulgence  which  the  King  accorded  to  his  sub- 
jects on  all  occasions, — as  an  instance  of  the  popular,  easy,  and 
endearing  arts  which  ensure  to  a  monarch  the  love  and  good- 
will of  his  people. — But  his  best  saying  was  his  last, — "  Let  not 
poor  Nelly  starve ! "  and  this,  the  parting  request  of  the  Merry 
Monarch,  reminds  us,  that  it  is  time  once  more  to  return  to 
Nelly. 

*  Duke  of  Wharton's  Works. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Birth  of  the  Duke  of  St.  Alban's — Arrival  of  Mademoiselle  de  Querouaille — Death  of  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans — Nelly's  house  in  Pall  Mall — Countess  of  Castlemaine  created 
Duchess  of  Cleveland — Sir  John  Birkenhead,  Sir  John  Coventry,  and  the  Actresses  at 
the  two  Houses — Insolence  of  Dramatists  and  Actors — Evelyn  overhears  a  conversa- 
tion between  Nelly  and  the  King — The  Protestant  and  Popish  Mistresses — Story  of 
the  Service  of  Plate — Printed  Dialogues  illustrative  of  the  rivalry  of  Nelly  and  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth — Madame  Sevigne's  account  of  it — Story  of  the  Smock — Nelly 
in  mourning  for  the  Cham  of  Tartary — Story  of  the  two  Fowls — Portsmouth's  opinion 
of  Nelly — Concert  at  Nell's  house — The  Queen  and  la  Belle  Stuart  at  a  Fair  dis- 
guised as  Country  Girls — Births,  Marriages,  and  Creations — Nelly's  disappointment — 
Her  witty  Remark  to  the  King — Her  son  created  Earl  of  Burford,  and  betrothed  to 
the  daughter  and  heiress  of  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford. 

On  the  8th  of  May,  1670,  while  the  court  was  on  its  way  to 
Dover  to  receive  and  entertain  the  Duchess  of  Orleans,  Nell 
Gwyn  was  delivered  of  a  son  in  her  apartments  in  Lincoln's 
Inn  Fields.  The  father  was  King  Charles  II.  and  the  son 
was  called  Charles  Beauclerk.  The  boy  grew  in  strength  and 
beauty,  and  became  a  favourite  with  his  father.  Where  the 
child  was  christened,  or  by  whom  he  was  brought  up,  I  have 
failed  in  discovering.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that  Sir 
Fleetwood  Sheppard,  the  friend  of  the  witty  Earl  of  Dorset, 
was  his  tutor,  and  that  the  poet  Otway  was  in  some  way  con- 
nected with  his  education."  To  Sheppard  one  of  the  best  of 
the  minor  poems  of  Prior  is  addressed. 

In  the  suite  of  followers  attendinof  the  beautiful  Duchess  of 
Orleans  to  Dover  came  Louise  Renee  de  Penencourt  de  Que- 

*  Then  for  that  cub  her  son  and  heir, 
Let  him  remain  in  Otway's  care. 

Satin  on  Xelly.     Harl.  MS.  7319.  M-  ^35. 


THE    DUCHESS    OF    PORTSMOUTH.  "]"] 

rouaille,  a  girl  of  nineteen,  of  a  noble  but  impoverished  family  in 
Brittany.  She  was  one  of  the  maids  of  honour  to  the  Duchess, 
and  famous  for  her  beauty,  though  of  a  childish,  simple,  and 
somewhat  baby  face.*  Charles,  whose  heart  was  formed  of 
tinder,  grew  at  once  enamoured  of  his  sister's  pretty  maid  of 
honour.  But  Louise  was  not  to  be  caus^ht  without  conditions 
affecting  the  interests  of  England.  While  the  court  stayed  at 
Dover  was  signed  that  celebrated  treaty  by  which  England  was 
secretly  made  subservient  to  a  foreign  power,  and  her  King  the 
pensioner  of  Louis  XIV.  When  this  was  done,  Clarendon  was 
living  in  exile,  and  the  virtuous  Southampton,  and  the  all- 
powerful  Albemarle  were  in  their  graves.  I  cannot  conceal 
my  opinion  that  Nokes  was  not  making  the  French  so  ridicu- 
lous at  Dover  (the  reader  will  remember  the  incident  related 
in  a  former  chapter)  as  the  French  were  making  the  English 
infamous,  at  the  same  time  and  in  the  same  place,  by  this  very 
treaty. 

The  Duchess  remained  here  for  a  fortnight,  and  Waller 
sung  her  leave-taking  in  some  of  his  courtly  and  felicitous 
couplets.  It  was  indeed  a  last  farewell.  In  another  month 
the  royal  lady  by  whom  the  treaty  was  completed  was  no 
more.  She  died  at  St.  Cloud  on  the  30th  of  June,  in  her 
twenty-sixth  year,  poisoned,  it  is  supposed,  by  a  dose  of  sub- 
limate given  in  a  glass  of  succory-water,  f 

Louise  de  Ouerouaille,  abiding  in  England,  became  the 
mistress  of  the  King,  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  and  the  rival  of 
Nell  Gwyn.  Her  only  child  by  the  King  was  recognised  by 
the  royal  name  of  Lennox,  created  Duke  of  Richmond,  and 
was  the  lineal  ancestor  of  the  present  noble  family  of  that 
name  and  title. 

*Such  is  Evelyn's  description,  confirmed  by  the  various  portraits  of  her  presen'ed  at 
Hampton  Court  Palace,  at  Goodwood,  the  seat  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  &c. 

f  See  Bossuet's  account  of  her  death  in  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  August,  1851. 


78  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

On  the  return  of  the  court  to  London,  Nelly  removed  from 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  to  a  house  on  the  east  end  of  the  north 
side  of  Pall  Mall,  from  whence  in  the  following  year  she  re- 
moved to  a  house  on  the  south  side,  with  a  garden  towards 
St.  James's  Park.  Her  neighbour  on  one  side  was  Edward 
Griffin,  Esq.,  Treasurer  of  the  Chamber,  and  ancestor  of  the 
present  Lord  Braybrooke ;  and,  on  the  other,  the  widow  of 
Charles  Weston,  third  Earl  of  Portland. ""'  Nelly  at  first  had 
only  a  lease  of  the  house,  which,  as  soon  as  she  discovered,  she 
returned  the  conveyance  to  the  King,  with  a  remark  character- 
istic of  her  wit  and  of  the  monarch  to  whom  it  was  addressed. 
The  King  enjoyed  the  joke,  and  perhaps  admitted  its  truth, 
so  the  house  in  Pall  Mall  was  conveyed  free  to  Nell  and  her 
representatives  for  ever.  The  truth  of  the  story  is  confirmed 
by  the  fact  that  the  house  which  occupies  the  site  of  the  one  in 
which  Nelly  lived,  now  No.  79,  and  tenanted  by  the  Society 
for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel  in  Foreign  Parts,  is  the  only 
freehold  on  the  south  or  Park  side  of  Pall  Mall,  f 

For  some  months  preceding  the  retirement  of  Nelly  from 
the  stage,  the  palace  of  Whitehall  had  hardly  been  a  place  for 
either  the  wife  or  the  mistress — the  Queen  or  the  Countess  of 
Castlemaine.  The  King,  in  November,  1669,  when  his  inti- 
macy with  "Madam  Gwin,"  as  she  was  now  called,  had  begun 
to  be  talked  about,  had  settled  Somerset  House,  in  the  Strand, 
on  his  Queen  for  her  life  ;  and,  in  August,  1670,  when  his  liking 
for  Nelly  was  still  on  the  increase,  and  his  growing  partiality 
for  Louise  de  Querouaille  the  theme  of  common  conversation, 
the  imperious  Countess  of  Castlemaine  was  appeased,  for  a 
time,  at  least,  by  being  created  Duchess  of  Cleveland. 

There  were  people,  however,  and  those  too  not  of  the  sourer 

*  Cunningham's  Handbook  for  London,  article  "  Pall  Mall." 

f  It  is  right  to  add,  as  Mr.  Feamside  has  kindly  informed  me,  that  no  entry  of  the  grant 
is  to  be  found  in  the  Land  Revenue  Record  Office. 


IMPUDENCE    OF   ACTORS   AND    ACTRESSES.  79 

kind,  who  were  far  from  being  pleased  with  the  present  state  of 
the  morality  at  court,  and  the  nature  and  number  of  the  King's 
amours.  The  theatres  had  become,  it  was  said,  nests  of  prosti 
tution.  In  Parliament  it  was  urged  by  the  opponents  of  the 
court  that  a  tax  should  be  levied  on  the  playhouses.  This  was 
of  course  opposed;  and  by  one  speaker  on  that  side  the  bold 
argument  was  advanced,  "that  the  players  were  the  King's 
servants,  and  a  part  of  his  pleasure."  The  speaker  was  Sir 
John  Birkenhead,  a  man  of  wit,  though  not  over  lucky  on  this 
occasion.  He  was  followed  by  Sir  John  Coventry,  who  asked, 
with  much  gravity,  "whether  did  the  King's  pleasure  lie  among 
the  men  that  acted  or  the  women  ?  "  The  saying  was  carried 
to  the  King,  and  Sir  John  Coventry  was  waylaid  on  his  road  to 
his  house  in  Suffolk  Street,  on  a  dark  night  in  December,  and 
his  nose  cut  to  the  bone  that  he  might  remember  the  offence 
he  had  given  to  his  sovereign.  The  allusion  chiefly  applied  to 
Moll  Davis  and  Nell  Gwyn,  and  was  made  in  the  very  year 
in  which  the  latter  gave  birth  to  the  Duke  of  St.  Alban's ;  while 
the  punishment  was  inflicted  in  the  very  street  in  which  Moll 
Davis  lived.  * 

The  players  and  dramatic  writers  required  looking  after. 
Shadwell  brought  Sir  Robert  Howard  on  the  stage  in  the  char- 
acter of  Sir  Positive  Atall,  and  in  so  marked  a  manner  that 
the  caricature  was  at  once  apparent.  Mrs.  Corey  (of  whom  I 
have  already  given  some  account)  imitated  the  oddities  of  Lady 
Harvey,t  and  was  imprisoned  for  her  skill  and  impertinence. 
Lacy,  while  playing  the  Country  Gentleman  in  one  of  Ned 
Howard's  unprinted  plays,  abused  the  court  with  so  much  wit 
and  insolence  for  selling  places,  and  doing  every  thing  for 
money,  that  it  was  found  proper  to  silence  the  play,  and  commit 

*  Burnet,  i.  468,  ed.  1823.     He  was  taken  out  of  his  coach  (Reresby,  p.  18,  ed.  1735). 
The  well  known  Coventry  Act  against  cutting  and  maiming  had  its  origin  in  this  incident. 
f  Pepys,  15  Jan.  1668-9. 


8o  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

Lacy  to  the  Porter's  Lodge.*  Kynaston  mimicked  Sir  Charles 
Sedley,  and  was  severely  thrashed  by  Sedley  for  his  pains,  f 
The  Duke  of  Buckingham,  while  busy  with  "The  Rehearsal," 
threatened  to  bring  Sir  William  Coventry  (uncle  of  Sir  John) 
into  a  play  at  the  King's  House,  but  Coventry's  courage  averted 
the  attempt.  J  He  challenged  the  Duke  for  the  intended  in- 
sult, and  was  committed  to  the  Tower  by  the  King  for  sending 
a  challenge  to  a  person  of  the  Duke's  distinction. 

Charles's  conduct  was  in  no  way  changed  by  the  personality 
of  the  abuse  employed  against  him  in  the  House  of  Commons. 
He  still  visited 

His  Clevelands,  his  Nells,  and  his  Canvells. 

Evelyn  records  a  walk  made  on  the  2nd  March,  1671,  in  which 
he  attended  him  through  St.  James's  Park,  where  he  both  saw 
and  heard  "a  familiar  discourse  between  the  Kine  and  Mrs. 
Nelly,  as  they  called  an  impudent  comedian,  she  looking  out 
of  her  garden  on  a  terrace  at  the  top  of  the  wall,  and  the  King 
standing  on  the  green  walk  under  it."  The  garden  was  at- 
tached to  her  house  in  Pall  Mall,  and  the  ground  on  which 
Nelly  stood  was  a  Mount  or  raised  terrace,  of  which  a  portion 
may  still  be  seen  under  the  park  wall  of  Marlborough  House. 
Of  this  scene,  at  which  Evelyn  tells  us  he  was  "  heartily  sorry," 
my  friend  Mr.  Ward  has  painted  a  picture  of  surprising  truth- 
fulness and  beauty.  § 

When  this  interview  occurred  the  Kinof  was  taking  his 
usual  quick  exercise  in  the  park,  on  his  way  to  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland,  at  BerksJiiix  House — subsequently,  and  till  within 
these  few  years,  called  Clcvela^id  Hotisc — a  detached  mansion 

•Burnet,  iv.  i8,  19.  f  Pepys,  i  Feb.  1668-9.  X  Pepys,  4  March,  i688-g. 

§  In  Ravenscroft's  London  Cuckolds  (4to.  1683)  is  the  following  stage  direction — "  Dash- 
well  and  Jane  upon  a  mount,  looking  over  a  wall  that  parts  the  two  gardens,"  p.  73.  Among 
Mr.  Robert  Cole's  Nell  Gwjti  Papers  (Bills  sent  to  Nelly  for  payment)  there  is  a  charge  for 
this  very  Mount. 


THE    PROTESTANT   AND    POPISH    MISTRESSES.  8 1 

built  by  the  Berkshire  branch  of  the  Howard  family,  on  the 
site  of  the  present  Bridgewater  House.  Charles  at  this  time 
divided  his  attentions  between  Nelly  and  the  Duchess.  Moll 
Davis  had  fallen  out  of  favour,  though  not  forsaken  or  unpen- 
sioned : — while  many  open  and  almost  avowed  infidelities  on 
the  part  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  had  lessened  the  kindly 
feelings  of  the  King  towards  her ;  though  he  continued  to  sup- 
ply ample  means  for  the  maintenance  of  the  rank  to  which  his 
partiality  had  raised  her.  *  Poor  Alinda,  however,  was  no 
longer  young,  and  the  memory  of  old  attractions  could  make 
but  little  way  with  Charles  against  the  wit  and  beauty  of  Nell 
Gwyn,  and  the  engaging  youth  and  political  influences  of  the 
new  maid  of  honour,  Louise  de  Querouaille,  or  Mrs.  Carwell  as 
she  was  called  by  the  common  people,  to  whom  the  name 
offered  many  difficulties  for  its  proper  pronunciation. 

There  is  no  reason  to  suspect  that  either  Nelly  or  Louise 
was  ever  unfaithful  to  the  light-hearted  King,  or  that  Charles 
did  not  appreciate  the  fidelity  of  his  mistresses.  The  people 
(it  was  an  age  of  confirmed  immorality)  rather  rejoiced  than 
otherwise  at  their  sovereign's  loose  and  disorderly  life.  Nelly 
became  the  idol  of  "the  town,"  and  was  known  far  and  near  as 
the  Protestant  Mistress;  while  Mrs.  Carwell,  or  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth  as  she  had  now  become,  was  hated  by  the  people, 
and  was  known,  wherever  Nelly  was  known,  as  the  Popish 
Mistress.  It  is  this  contrast  of  position  which  has  given  to 
Nell  Gwyn  much  of  the  odd  and  particular  favour  connected 
with  her  name.  Nelly  was  an  English  girl — of  humble  origin 
— a  favourite  actress — a  beauty,  and  a  wit.     The  Duchess  was 


*  She  had  6000/.  a  year  out  of  the  excise,  and  3000/.  a  year  from  the  same  quarter  for 
each  of  her  sons.  (Harl.  MS.  6013,  temp.  Chas.  II.)  Her  pension  from  the  Post  Office, 
of  4700/.  a  year,  was  stopped  for  a  time  in  William  the  Third's  reign  ;  but  the  amount  then 
withheld  was  paid  in  George  the  First's  reign  to  her  son  the  Duke  of  Grafton,  sole  e.\ecutor 
and  residuary  legatee.     (Audit  OflSce  Enrolments.) 


82  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   G^VYN. 

a  foreigner — of  noble  origin — with  beauty  certainly,  but  without 
wit;  and,  wosre  still,  sufficiently  suspected  to  be  little  better 
than  a  pensioner  from  France,  sent  to  enslave  the  English 
King  and  the  English  nation.  To  such  a  height  did  this  feel- 
ing run  that  Misson  was  assured  hawkers  had  been  heard  to 
cry  a  printed  sheet,  advising  the  King  to  part  with  the  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth,  or  to  expect  most  dreadful  consequences.  * 
While  a  still  stronger  illustration  of  what  the  people  thought 
of  the  Duchess  is  contained  in  the  reply  of  her  brother-in-law, 
the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  of  whom  the  Duchess  had  threatened  to 
complain  to  the  King.  The  Earl  told  her  that  if  she  did  he 
would  set  her  upon  her  head  at  Charing  Cross,  and  show  the 
nation  its  grievance,  f 

A  feeling  of  antipathy  between  Protestants  and  Roman 
Catholics  was  at  this  time  exciting  the  people  to  many  ridicu- 
lous pageants  and  expressions  of  ill-will  to  those  about  the 
Court  suspected  of  anti-Protestant  principles.  A  True  Blue 
Protestant  poet  was  a  name  of  honour,  and  a  Protestant  sock 
a  favourite  article  of  apparel.  {  When  Nelly  was  insulted  in 
her  coach  at  Oxford  by  the  mob,  who  mistook  her  for  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  she  looked  out  of  the  window  and 
said,  with  her  usual   good  humour,   "  Pray,  good  people,  be 

civil ;   I  am  the  Protestant  ."     This  laconic  speech  drew 

upon  her  the  favour  of  the  populace,  and  she  was  suffered  to 
proceed  without  further  molestation. § 

An  eminent  goldsmith  of  the  early  part  of  the  last  century 


*  Misson's  Memoirs,  8vo.  1719,  p.  204. 

f  Walpole's  Anecdotes  of  Painting,  ed.  Womum,  p.  464. 

X  Shadwell  was  called  the  True  Blue  Protestant  poet ;  for  the  Protestant  sock,  see  Scott's 
Dryden. 

§  The  great  Lord  Peterborough,  when  mistaken  for  the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  made  a 
similar  escape.  "  Gentlemen,  I  can  convince  you  by  tvvo  reasons  that  I  am  not  the  Duke. 
In  the  first  place,  I  have  only  five  guineas  in  my  pocket ;  and  in  the  second  they  are  heartily 
at  your  service." 


HER    QUARREL    WITH    PORTSMOUTH.  83 

was  often  heard  to  relate  a  striking  instance  which  he  himself 
remembered  of  Nelly's  popularity.  His  master,  when  he  was 
an  apprentice,  had  made  a  most  expensive  service  of  plate  as 
a  present  from  the  King  to  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth :  great 
numbers  of  people  crowded  the  shop  to  see  what  the  plate  was 
like ;  some  indulged  in  curses  against  the  Duchess,  while  all 
were  unanimous  in  wishing  the  present  had  been  for  the  use  of 
Mrs.  Gwyn.*  With  the  London  apprentices,  long  an  influen- 
tial body  both  east  and  west  of  Temple  Bar,  Nell  was  always  a 
favourite. 

She  and  the  Duchess  frequently  met  at  Whitehall,  often  in 
good  humour,  but  oftener  not  in  the  best  temper  one  with  the 
other,  for  Nelly  was  a  Avit  and  loved  to  laugh  at  her  Grace. 
The  nature  of  these  bickerings  between  them  has  been  well 
but  coarsely  described  in  a  single  half-sheet  of  contemporary 
verses  printed  in  1682 — "A  Dialogue  between  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth  and  Madam  Gwyn  at  parting."  The  Duchess  was 
on  her  way  to  France,  I  believe  for  the  first  time  since  she 
landed  at  Dover,  and  the  language  employed  by  the  rival  ladies 
is  at  least  characteristic.     Nelly  vindicates  her  fidelity — 

Let  Fame,  that  never  yet  spoke  well  of  woman, 

Give  out  I  was  a  strolling and  common  ; 

Yet  have  I  been  to  him,  since  the  first  hour, 
As  constant  as  the  needle  to  the  flower. 

The  Duchess  threatens  her  with  the  people's  "curse  and 
hate,"  to  which  Nell  replies :  — 

The  people's  hate,  much  less  their  curse,  I  fear ; 
I  do  them  justice  with  less  sums  a-year. 
I  neither  run  in  court  nor  city's  score, 
I  pay  my  debts,  distribute  to  the  poor. 

*The  London  Chronicle — Aug.  15,  18,  1778. 


84  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

Another  single  sheet  in  folio,  dated  a  year  earlier,  records 
**  A  pleasant  Battle  between  Tutty  and  Snapshort,  the  two  Lap- 
Dogs  of  the  Utopian  Court."  Tutty  belonged  to  Nell  Gwyn, 
and  Snapshort  to  the  Duchess,  and  the  dialogue  is  supposed  to 
allude  to  some  real  fray  between  the  rival  ladies.  Tutty  de- 
scribes the  mistress  of  Snapshort  as  one  of  Pharaoh's  lean  kine, 
and  with  a  countenance  so  sharp  as  if  she  would  devour  him  as 
she  had  devoured  the  nation,  while  Snapshort  observes  of  Nelly 
that  she  hopes  to  see  her  once  more  upon  a  dunghill,  or  in  her 
old  calling  of  selling  oranges  and  lemons. 

But  a  still  livelier  description  has  been  left  us  by  one  of  the 
most  charming  of  lady  letter- writers : — "  Mademoiselle  amasses 
treasure,"  says  Madame  Sevlgne,  "and  makes  herself  feared 
and  respected  by  as  many  as  she  can ;  but  she  did  not  foresee 
that  she  should  find  a  young  actress  in  her  way,  whom  the 
King  dotes  on,  and  she  has  it  not  in  her  power  to  withdraw 
him  from  her.  He  divides  his  care,  his  time,  and  his  wealth 
between  these  two.  The  actress  is  as  haughty  as  Mademoi- 
selle ;  she  insults  her,  she  makes  grimaces  at  her,  she  attacks 
her,  she  frequently  steals  the  King  from  her,  and  boasts  when- 
ever he  gives  her  the  preference.  She  is  young,  indiscreet, 
confident,  wild,  and  of  an  agreeable  humour.  She  sings,  she 
dances,  acts  her  part  with  a  good  grace ;  has  a  son  by  the  King, 
and  hopes  to  have  him  acknowledged.  As  to  Mademoiselle 
she  reasons  thus  :  *  This  lady,'  says  she,  'pretends  to  be  a  per- 
son of  quality ;  she  says  she  is  related  to  the  best  families  in 
France :  whenever  any  person  of  distinction  dies  she  puts  her- 
self into  mourning.  If  she  be  a  lady  of  such  quality,  why  does 
she  demean  herself  to  be  a  courtezan  ?  She  oueht  to  die  with 
shame.  As  for  me  it  is  my  profession.  I  do  not  pretend  to 
be  anything  better.  He  has  a  son  by  me ;  I  contend  that  he 
ought  to  acknowledge  him,  and  I  am  assured  he  will ;  for  he 
loves  me  as  well  as  Mademoiselle.' " 


HER    RETORT    ON    PORTSMOUTH.  85 

The  good  sense  of  this  is  obvious  enough  ;  but  the  satire 
which  it  contains  will  be  found  to  merit  illustration. 

There  is  a  very  rare  print  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  re- 
clining on  a  mossy  bank,  with  very  little  covering  over  her  other 
than  a  laced  chemise.  There  is  also  an  equally  rare  print  of 
Nelly  in  nearly  the  same  posture,  and  equally  unclad.  The  story 
runs  that  Nell  had  contrived  to  filch  the  chemise  from  the  Duch- 
ess, and  by  wearing  it  herself  at  a  time  when  the  Duchess  should 
have  worn  it,  to  have  attracted  the  King,  and  tricked  her  rival.* 

There  is  yet  another  story  illustrative  of  Madame  Sevigne's 
letter.  The  news  of  the  Cham  of  Tartary's  death  reached  Eng- 
land at  the  same  time  with  the  news  of  the  death  of  a  prince  of 
the  blood  in  France.  The  Duchess  appeared  at  Court  in  mourn- 
ing— so  did  Nelly.  The  latter  was  asked  in  the  hearing  of  the 
Duchess,  for  whom  she  appeared  in  mourning.  "  Oh  ! "  said 
Nell,  "  have  you  not  heard  of  my  loss  in  the  death  of  the  Cham 
of  Tartary."  "And  what  relation,"  replied  her  friend,  "was 
the 'Cham  of  Tartary  to  you?"  "Oh,"  answered  Nelly,  "ex- 
actly the  same  relation  that  the  Prince  of was  to  M'lle. 

Querouaille."     This  was  a  saying  after  the  King's  own  heart. 

Another  of  her  retorts  on  the  Duchess  has  been  preserved 
in  a  small  chap-book  called  "Jokes  upon  Jokes,"  printed  in 
London  about  the  year  1721.     Its  doggrel  hobbles  thus  : — 

The  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  one  time  supped  with  the  King's  Majesty ; 
Two  chickens  were  at  table,  when  the  Duchess  would  make  'em  three. 
Nell  Gwyn,  being  by,  denied  the  same  ;  the  Duchess  speedily 
Reply'd  here's  one,  another  two,  and  two  and  one  makes  three. 

'Tis  well  said,  lady,  answered  Nell :  O  King,  here's  one  for  thee, 
Another  for  myself,  sweet  Charles,  'cause  you  and  I  agree  ; 
The  third  she  may  take  to  herself,  because  she  found  the  same  : 
The  King  himself  laughed  heartily,  whilst  Portsmouth  blush'd  for  shame. 

*  Morse's  Catalogue  of  Prints,  made  by  Dodd,  the  auctioneer,  by  whom  they  were  sold 
in  1 8 16. 


86  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

It  was  on  a  somewhat  similar  occasion  that  Nell  called 
Charles  the  Second  her  Charles  the  third — meaning  that  her 
first  lover  was  Charles  Hart,  her  second  Charles  Sackville,  and 
her  third  Charles  Stuart.  The  King  may  have  enjoyed  the 
joke,  for  he  loved  a  laugh,  as  I  have  before  observed,  even  at 
his  own  expense. 

What  the  Duchess  thought  of  such  jokes,  was  no  secret  to 
De  Foe.  "  I  remember,"  (he  says,)  "that  the  late  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth  in  the  time  of  Charles  II.  gave  a  severe  retort  to 
one  who  was  praising  Nell  Gwyn,  whom  she  hated.  They 
were  talking  of  her  wit  and  beauty,  and  how  she  always  di- 
verted the  King  with  her  extraordinary  repartees,  how  she  had 
a  fine  mien  and  appeared  as  much  the  lady  of  quality  as  any- 
body. "Yes,  madam,"  said  the  Duchess,  "but  anybody  may 
know  she  has  been  an  orano^e-wench  bv  her  swearino-."* 

Of  her  manner  in  diverting  the  King,  Cibber  has  preserved 
a  story  from  the  relation  of  Bowman  the  actor,  who  lived  to  a 
green  old  age,  and  from  whom  Oldys  picked  up  some  charac- 
teristic anecdotes.  Bowman,  then  a  youth,  and  famed  for  his 
voice,  was  appointed  to  take  part  in  a  concert  at  the  private 
lodgings  of  Mrs.  Gwyn ;  at  which  were  present  the  King,  the 
Duke  of  York,  and  one  or  two  more  usually  admitted  to  those 
detached  parties  of  pleasure.  When  the  music  was  over,  the 
King  gave  it  extraordinary  commendations.  "  Then,  sir,"  said 
the  lady,  "to  show  that  you  do  not  speak  like  a  courtier,  I 
hope  you  will  make  the  performers  a  handsome  present."  The 
King  said  he  had  no  money  about  him,  and  asked  the  Duke  if 
he  had  any.  "  I  believe,  sir,"  (answered  the  Duke,)  "  not  above 
a  guinea  or  two."  Merr^-  Mrs.  Nell,  turning  to  the  people 
about  her,  and  making  bold  with  the  King's  common  expres- 
sion, cried  "Odds  fish!  what  company  am  I  got  into?"t 

*  De  Foe's  Review,  viii.  247-8,  as  quoted  in  Wilson's  Life  of  De  Foe,  i.  38. 
\  Gibber's  Apology,  ed.  1740,  p.  448.     Bowman  died  23  March,  1739,  ^Z^^  ^'^- 


THE    KING   AT   NELLYS   CONCERT.  87 

What  the  songs  at  Nell's  concert  were  like  we  may  gather 

from  Tom   D'Urfey,  a  favourite  author  for  finding  words  to 

popular  pieces  of  music.     His  "  Joy  to  great  Caesar  "  was  much 

in  vogue : — 

Joy  to  great  Csesar, 

Long  life,  love,  and  pleasure  ; 

'Tis  a  health  that  divine  is, 

Fill  the  bowl  high  as  mine  is, 

Let  none  fear  a  fever. 
But  take  it  off  thus,  boys  ; 

Let  the  King  live  for  ever, 
'Tis  no  matter  for  us  boys — * 

No  less  was  the  chorus  of  a  song  in  his  "Virtuous  Wife." 

Let  Caesar  live  long,  let  Caesar  live  long, 

For  ever  be  happy,  and  ever  be  young  ; 

And  he  that  dares  hope  to  change  a  King  for  a  Pope, 

Let  him  die,  let  him  die,  while  Caesar  lives  long. 

If  these  were  sung,  as  I  suspect  they  were,  at  Nelly's  house, 
it  was  somewhat  hard  that  the  King  had  nothing  to  give,  by 
way  of  reward,  beyond  empty  praise  for  so  much  loyalty  in 
what  was  at  least  meant  for  verse. 

There  were  occurrincr  in  Enorland  at  this  time  certain  events 
of  moment  to  find  places  either  in  the  page  of  history  or  biog- 
raphy; but  in  many  of  which  "the  chargeable  ladies  about  the 
Court,"  as  Shaftesbury  designated  the  King's  mistresses,  would 
probably  take  very  little  interest.  The  deaths  of  Fairfax  or  Sl 
John,  of  Clarendon  or  Milton,  of  the  mother  of  Oliver  Crom- 
well or  of  the  loyal  Marquess  of  Winchester  (all  of  which 
happened  during  the  time  referred  to  in  the  present  chapter), 
would  hardly  create  a  moment's  concern  at  Whitehall.  The 
news  of  a  second  Dutch  war  might  excite  more,  as  it  involved 
an  expense  likely  to  divert  the  King's  money  from  his  mis- 

*D'Urfcy's  Pills,  ii.  155. 


88  THE   STORY   OF   NELL   G^VYN. 

tresses.  Greater  interest,  we  may  be  sure,  was  felt  in  the 
death  of  the  Duchess  of  York  and  the  speculations  on  the  sub- 
ject of  her  successor,  in  Blood's  stealing  the  Crown,  in  the 
opening  of  a  new  theatre  in  Dorset  Gardens,  in  the  represen- 
tation of  "The  Rehearsal,"  in  the  destruction  by  fire  of  the  first 
Drury  Lane,  and  in  the  marriage  of  the  King's  eldest  child  by 
the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  to  Thomas  Lord  Dacre  afterwards 
Earl  of  Sussex. 

While  "The  Rehearsal"  was  drawing  crowded  houses, — 
indeed  in  the  same  month  in  which  it  first  appeared, —  Nell 
Gwyn  was  delivered  (25  Dec.  1671)  of  a  second  child  by  the 
King,  called  James,  in  compliment  to  the  Duke  of  York.  The 
boy  thrived,  and  as  he  grew  in  strength  became,  as  his  brother 
still  continued,  a  favourite  with  his  father.  The  Queen,  long 
used  to  the  profligate  courses  of  her  husband,  had  abandoned 
all  hope  of  his  reformation,  so  that  a  fresh  addition  to  the 
list  of  his  natural  children  caused  no  particular  emotion.  Her 
Majesty  moreover  enjoyed  herself  after  an  innocent  fashion  of 
her  own,  and  at  times  in  a  way  to  occasion  some  merriment  in 
the  court.  One  of  her  adventures  in  the  company  of  La  Belle 
Stuart  and  the  Duchess  of  Buckingham  (the  daughter  of  Sir 
Thomas  Fairfax)  deserves  to  be  related.  The  court  was  at 
Audley  End  in  the  autumn  of  1670,  and  the  temptation  of  a 
fair  in  the  neighbourhood  induced  the  Queen  and  several  of 
her  attendants  to  visit  it  in  disguise.  They  therefore  dressed 
themselves  like  country  girls,  in  red  petticoats  and  waistcoats. 
Sir  Bernard  Gascoign  rode  on  a  cart-jade  before  the  Queen, 
another  gentleman  in  like  fashion  before  the  Duchess  of  Rich- 
mond, and  a  Mr.  Roper  before  the  Duchess  of  Buckingham. 
Their  dresses,  however,  were,  it  is  said,  so  much  overdone,  that 
they  looked  more  like  mountebanks  than  country  clowns,  and 
they  were  consequently  followed  as  soon  as  they  arrived  at  the 
fair  by  a  crowd  of  curious  people.     The  Queen,  stepping  into  a 


A    FROLIC    NEAR    AUDLEY   END.  89 

booth  to  buy  a  pair  of  yellow  stockings  for  her  sweetheart,  and 
Sir  Bernard  asking  for  a  pair  of  gloves,  striped  with  blue,  for 
his  sweetheart,  they  were  at  once  detected  by  their  false  dialect 
and  gibberish.  A  girl  in  the  crowd  remembered  to  have  seen 
the  Queen  at  dinner,  and  at  once  made  known  her  discovery. 
The  whole  concourse  of  people  were  soon  collected  in  one  spot 
to  see  the  Queen.  It  was  high  time  therefore  to  get  their 
horses  and  return  to  Audley  End.  They  were  soon  remounted 
and  out  of  the  fair,  but  not  out  of  their  trouble,  for  as  many 
country-people  as  had  horses  followed  with  their  wives,  chil- 
dren, sweethearts,  or  neighbours  behind  them,  and  attended 
the  Queen  to  the  court  gate.  "And  thus,"  says  the  writer  to 
whom  we  are  indebted  for  the  relation  of  the  adventure,  "  was 
a  merry  frolic  turned  into  a  penance."  '"  The  readers  of  Pepys 
and  De  Grammont  will  remember  that  La  Belle  Jennings  had 
a  somewhat  similar  mishap  when,  dressed  as  an  orange  girl 
and  accompanied  by  Miss  Price,  she  endeavoured  to  visit  the 
German  fortune-teller. 

While  the  court  was  alternately  annoyed  and  amused  with 
diversions  of  this  description,  and  the  death  of  the  Earl  of 
Sandwich  and  the  war  with  the  Dutch  were  still  subjects  of 
conversation,  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  on  the  i6th  of  July, 
1672,  was  delivered  of  a  daughter,  and  on  the  29th  of  the  same 
month  and  year  the  fair  Querouaille  produced  a  son.  The 
King  disowned  the  girl  but  acknowledged  the  boy,  and  many 
idle  conjectures  were  afloat  both  in  court  and  city  on  the  sub- 
ject. The  father  of  the  Cleveland  child  was,  it  is  said.  Colonel 
Churchill,  afterwards  the  great  Duke  of  Marlborough,  then  a 
young  and  handsome  adventurer  about  Whitehall.  The  girl 
was  called  Barbara,  after  her  mother,  and  became  a  nun. 

These  events  were  varied  in  the  following  month  by  the 

*Mr.   Henshaw  to   Sir   Robert   Paston,   Oct.   13,    1670.      Ives's   Select   Papers,    410. 
1773,  p.  39. 


^O  THE    STORY    OF   NELL    GWYN. 

marriage  of  the  Duke  of  Grafton,  the  King's  son  by  the  Duch- 
ess of  Cleveland,  to  the  only  child  of  the  Earl  and  Countess  of 
Arlington ;  by  the  birth  of  a  first  child  to  the  Duke  and  Duch- 
ess of  Monmouth;  and  by  the  widowhood  in  December  of 
La  Belle  Stuart,  the  beautiful  Duchess  of  Richmond.  In  the 
following  year  other  occurrences  took  place  in  which  Nelly 
was  interested.  On  the  19th  August,  1673,  Mademoiselle  de 
Querouaille  was  created  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  and  in  Octo- 
ber following,  Moll  Davis,  her  former  rival  in  the  royal  affec- 
tions, was  delivered  of  a  daughter,  called  Mary  Tudor,  and 
acknowledged  by  the  King.  Following  hard  on  these  was  the 
marriage  of  the  Duke  of  York  to  his  future  queen  ;  the  intro- 
duction of  the  opera  into  England ;  the  opening  of  the  new 
theatre  in  Drury  Lane ;  the  marriage  of  the  future  Earl  of 
Lichfield  to  Charlotta,  another  natural  daughter  of  the  King 
by  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland ;  the  creation  of  Charles  Fitzroy 
to  be  Duke  of  Southampton ;  the  marriage  of  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth's  sister  to  the  Earl  of  Pembroke ;  Lord  Buckhurst's 
elevation  to  the  earldom  of  Middlesex ;  that  of  the  King's  son 
by  Katharine  Pegg  to  be  Earl  of  Plymouth ;  and  that  of  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth's  son  to  be  Duke  of  Richmond. 

Some  of  these  creations,  both  natal  and  heraldic,  were  little 
to  the  liking  of  Nelly,  who  took  her  own  way  of  showing  her 
dissatisfaction.  "Come  hither,  you  little  bastard,"  she  cried 
to  her  son  Charles  in  the  hearing  of  his  father.  *  The  King 
remonstrated,  and  Nelly,  with  a  snappish  and  yet  good-natured 
laugh,  replied — "  I  have  no  better  name  to  call  him  by."  Never 
was  a  peerage  sought  in  so  witty  and  abrupt  a  manner,  and 
never  was  a  plea  for  one  so  immediately  admitted,  the  King 
creating  his  eldest  son  by  Nell  Gwyn,  on  the  27th  December, 
1676,  Baron  of  Headington  and  Earl  of  Burford.  Nelly  had 
now  another  name  to  give  to  her  child.     But  this  was  not  all 

•Granger,  iii.  2ii,  ed.  1779. 


KING    CHARLES  S    CHILDREN.  9I 

that  was  done,  and,  as  I  see  reason  to  believe,  at  this  time. 
The  heiress  of  the  Veres,  the  daughter  of  the  twentieth  and 
last  Earl  of  Oxford  of  that  illustrious  family,  was  betrothed  by 
the  King  to  the  young  Earl  of  Burford ;  and,  though  the  lively 
orange-girl  was  not  spared  to  witness  the  marriage,  yet  she 
lived  to  see  the  future  wife  of  her  son  in  the  infancy  of  those 
charms  which  made  her  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  of  the 
Kneller  Beauties,  still  so  attractive  in  the  collection  at  Hamp- 
ton Court.'*'* 

*  When  Dugdale  was  busy  with  his  "Baronage,"  he  laid  the  following  statement  of 
difficulties  before  the  King. 

"  Whereas  the  second  volume  of  an  Historicall  Worke,  intituled  the  Baronage  of  Eng- 
land (being  extracted  from  publiq  records,  and  other  authorities)  is  now  in  the  presse  ;  and  ex- 
tending from  the  end  of  K.  Henry  the  Third's  reigne  containeth  what  is  most  memorable  of  the 
English  Nobility  throughout  all  times  since  ;  in  w*^''  the  preambles  of  most  Creation  Patents 
have  been  usefull.  Descending  down  to  the  reig^n  of  this  king,  the  Author  humbly  concieveth, 
that  there  is  some  deficiency  in  that  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth's  Creation  ;  no  mention  at  all 
being  made  that  he  is  his  Ma*'^*  naturall  son,  though  in  some  patents,  and  other  instruments 
since,  he  hath  been  owned  so  to  be.  In  that  also  of  the  Countesse  of  Castlemaine,  whereby 
she  hath  the  title  of  Countesse  of  Southampton  and  Dutchesse  of  Cleveland,  conferred  on 
her  ;  her  eldest  son  (on  whom  those  honours  are  entailed)  is  denominated  Charles  Palmer,  and 
George  (her  third  son)  to  whom,  in  case  Charles  die  w*''out  issue  male,  the  remaynder  is 
limitted,  is  sayd  to  be  her  second  son,  and  likewise  sumamed  Palmer  ;  but  afterwards,  upon 
his  being  created  Earle  of  Northumberland,  called  Fitz-roy,  and  sayd  to  be  her  third  son. 
Also  in  the  Creation-Patent  of  the  same  Charles,  to  be  Duke  of  Southampton,  the  name  of 
Fitz-roy  is  attributed  to  him.  These  things  considered,  the  Author  most  humbly  craveth 
direction  what  to  do  herein  ;  whether  to  decline  the  mention  of  all  his  Ma""  creations,  rather 
than  from  the  authoritie  of  these  Patents  to  divulge  such  contradictions  ;  though  thereby  he 
shall  hazard  the  displeasure  of  some,  whom  his  Ma''^  hath  deservedly  raysed  to  such  degrees 
of  honour,  since  his  happy  restoration. 

"  If  it  be  resolved,  that  all  of  them  shall  be  called  Fitz-roys  ;  Then  forasmuch  as  the 
Duke  of  Southampton,  and  Earle  of  Northumberland,  and  likewise  the  Duke  of  Grafton,  are 
sayd  to  be  the  King's  naturall  sons  by  the  sayd  Dutchesse  of  Cleveland  ;  whether  it  will  not  be 
as  proper  to  make  mention  on  what  particular  woman  his  Ma"'  begot  the  Dukes  of  Monmouth, 
Richmond,  and  E.  of  Plimouth  ? 

"  This  being  shewed  to  K.  Charles  the  Second,  by  the  Earl  of  Anglesey,  then  L"'  Privye 
Scale,  the  king  directed  that  these  his  naturall  children  should  be  all  of  them  called  Fitz- 
Roys  ;  but  no  mention  to  be  made  of  the  mothers  of  these  three  last-named  ;  viz.  Monmouth, 
Richmond,  and  Plymouth." — Hamper's  Life  of  Dugdale,  p.  494. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Houses  in  which  Nelly  is  said  to  have  lived — Burford  House,  Windsor,  one  of  the  few 
genuine — Her  losses  at  basset — Court  paid  to  Nelly  by  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  Lord 
Cavendish,  &c. — Death  of  her  mother — Printed  elegy  on  her  death — Nelly's  household 
expenses — Bills  for  her  chair  and  bed— Death  of  Mrs.  Roberts — Foundation  of  Chelsea 
Hospital — Nelly  connected  with  its  origin — Books  dedicated  to  Nelly — Death  of  her 
second  son — The  Earl  Burford  created  Duke  of  St.  Alban's — Nelly's  only  letter — 
Ken  and  Nelly  at  Winchester — Nelly  at  Avington — Death  of  the  King — Was  the  King 
poisoned  ? — Nelly  to  have  been  created  Countess  of  Greenwich  if  the  King  had  lived. 

There  are  more  houses  pointed  out  in  which  Nell  Gwyn  is 
said  to  have  lived  than  sites  of  palaces  belonging  to  King 
John,  hunting-lodges  believed  to  have  sheltered  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, or  mansions  and  posting-houses  in  which  Oliver  Crom- 
well resided  or  put  up.  She  is  said  by  some  to  have  been  born 
at  Hereford ;  by  others  at  London  ;  and  Oxford  it  is  found 
has  a  fair  claim  to  be  considered  as  her  birth-place.  But  the 
houses  in  which  she  is  said  to  have  lived  far  exceed  in  number 
the  cities  contending  for  the  honour  of  her  birth.  She  is  be- 
lieved by  some  to  have  lived  at  Chelsea,  by  others  at  Bagnigge 
Wells ;  Highgate,  and  Walworth,  and  Filberts,  near  Windsor, 
are  added  to  the  list  of  reputed  localities.  A  staring  inscrip- 
tion in  the  Strand  in  London  instructs  the  curious  passenger 
that  a  house  at  the  upper  end  of  a  narrow  court  was  "formerly 
the  dairy  of  Nell  Gwyn."  I  have  been  willing  to  believe  in 
one  and  all  of  these  conjectural  residences,  but,  after  a  long 
and  careful  inquiry,  I  am  obliged  to  reject  them  all.  Her 
early  life  was  spent  in  Drury  Lane  and  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields; 
her  latter  life  in  Pall  Mall,  and  in  Burford  House  in  the  town  of 


HOUSES    IN    WHICH    SHE    LIVED.  93 

Windsor.*  The  rate-books  of  the  parish  of  St.  Martin's-in- 
the- Fields  record  her  residence  in  Pall  Mall  from  1670  to  her 
death,  and  the  site  of  her  house  in  Windsor  may  be  estab- 
lished, were  other  evidence  wanting,  by  the  large  engraving 
after  Knyff. 

We  have  seen  from  Cibber  that  Nelly  was  fond  of  having 
concerts  at  her  house,  and  that  she  never  failed  in  urging  the 
claims  of  those  who  played  and  sung  to  the  favourable  con- 
sideration of  the  King  and  the  Duke  of  York.  She  had  her 
basset-table,  too,  and  in  one  night  is  said  to  have  lost  to  the 
once  beautiful  Duchess  of  Mazarine  as  much  as  1400  guineas, 
or  5000/.  at  least  of  our  present  money,  f  Basset,  long  the 
fashionable  game,  was  I  believe  introduced  into  this  country 
from  France.  Etherege  and  Lady  Mary  Wortley  have  sung  its 
attractions  and  its  snares,  and  D'Urfey  has  condemned  it  in  one 
of  the  best  of  his  plays.  Nor  will  Evelyn's  description  of  the 
basset-table  which  he  saw  on  a  Sunday  night  at  Whitehall,  only 
a  few  hours  before  the  King  was  seized  with  his  last  illness,  be 
effaced  from  the  memory  of  those  to  whom  his  work  is  known. 

Nelly  possessed  great  interest  with  the  King,  and  her  house 
at  Windsor,  with  its  staircases  painted  expressly  for  her  by  the 
fashionable  pencil  of  Verrio,t  was  the  rendezvous  of  all  who 
wished  to  stand  well  at  the  Castle.  The  Duke  of  Monmouth, 
— the  handsome  Sydney  of  De  Grammont's  Memoirs,  after- 
wards Earl  of  Romney, — and  the  patriot  Lord  Cavendish, 
afterwards  Duke  of  Devonshire,  were  among  Nelly's  friends. 
Such  constant   court  was   paid  to  her  for  political  purposes 

*  "The  Prince  of  Wales  is  lodged  [at  Windsor]  in  the  Princess  of  Denmark's  house, 
which  was  Mrs.  Ellen  Gwyn's."     Letter,  Aug.  14,  l6S3,  Ellis  Corresp.  ii.  118, 

f  Lucas's  Lives  of  Gamesters,  i2mo.  1714.  Lord  Cavendish  lost  a  thousand  pounds  in 
two  nights,  at  Madame  Mazarine's.  Countess  Dowager  of  Sunderland,  to  the  Earl  of  Hali- 
fax, Aug.  5,  1680  : — (Miss  Berry's  Lady  Rachael  Russell,  p.  373.) 

J  Accounts  of  the  Paymaster  of  His  Majesty's  Works  and  Buildings,  preserved  in  the 
Audit  Office. 


94  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

by  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  and  Lord  Cavendish,  that  Lady 
Rachael  Russell  records  the  King's  command  that  Nelly  should 
refuse  to  see  them.*  Monmouth  was  endeavouring  to  regain 
his  situations,  of  which  he  had  been  properly  deprived  by  his 
father,  and  Cavendish  was  urging  the  claims  of  the  Protestants 
on  behalf  of  the  famous  Bill  for  excluding  the  Duke  of  York 
from  the  succession  to  the  crown.  Nelly,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, had  already  identified  herself  with  the  Protestant  in- 
terest, but  the  regard  with  which  she  was  treated  by  King 
James  is  ample  evidence  that  she  had  never  abused  her  influ- 
ence, in  order  to  prejudice  Charles  II.  against  his  brother. 
Indeed  she  would  appear  to  have  been  among  the  first  who 
foresaw  the  insane  ambition  of  Monmouth.  She  is  said  to 
have  called  him  "Prince  Perkin"  to  his  face,  and  when  the 
Duke  replied  that  she  was  "ill-bred," — "Ill-bred,"  retorted 
Nelly,  "  was  Mrs.  Barlow  better  bred  than  I  ? "  f 

I  have  introduced  the  mother  of  Nelly  by  name  to  the 
reader,  and  I  have  now  to  record  her  death.  "We  hear," 
says  the  *  Domestic  Intelligencer'  of  the  5th  of  August,  1679, 
"that  Madam  Ellen  Gwyn's  mother,  sitting  lately  by  the 
water-side  at  her  house  by  the  Neat- Houses,  near  Chelsea, 
fell  accidentally  into  the  water  and  was  drowned."  Oldys  had 
seen  a  quarto  pamphlet  of  the  time  giving  an  account  of  her 
death.  This  I  have  never  met  with,  but  among  the  Luttrell 
Collection  of  ballads  and  broadsides  sold  at  the  Stowe  sale 
was  an  elegy  "Upon  that  never-to-be-forgotten  matron  Old 
Madame  Gwyn,  who  died  in  her  own  fishpond,  29  July,  1679." 
The  verse  is  of  the  lowest  possible  character  of  Grub  Street 
elegy,  nor  could  I,  after  a  careful  perusal,  glean  from  it  any 
biographical  matter  other  than  that  she  was  very  fat  and  fond 

*  Lady  Sunderland  to  Henry  Sydney,  i6  Dec.  1679.  (Romney's  Diary,  &c.  i.  207.) 
Lady  Rachael  Russell  to  her  husband,  3  April,  1680.  (Miss  Berry's  Lady  Rachael,  pp.  210, 
215,  367.)  f  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  November,  1851,  p.  471. 


HER    EXPENSES.  95 

of  brandy.  She  was  burled  in  the  church  of  St.  Martin*s-in- 
the-Fields,  and  it  is  said  with  five  gilded  scutcheons  to  the 
hearse ;  but  this  could  hardly  be,  if  the  ballad-monger's  date  of 
the  29th  is  correct,  for  the  register  of  St.  Martin's  records  her 
burial  on  the  30th,  the  very  next  day.'"'  That  the  old  lady 
resided  at  one  time  with  her  daughter  and  in  her  house  in 
Pall  Mall;  may,  I  think,  be  inferred  from  some  curious  bills  for 
debts  incurred  by  Nelly,  accidentally  discovered  among  the 
mutilated  Exchequer  papers :  an  apothecary's  bill  containing 
charges  for  cordial  juleps  with  pearls  for  "  Master  Charles," 
and  "plasters,"  "glysters,"  "cordials"  for  "old  Mrs.  Gwyn." 

From  these  bills,  the  originals  of  which  have  been  kindly 
entrusted  to  me  by  Mr.  Loddy  and  Mr.  Robert  Cole,  some  ex- 
tracts may  be  made  that  will  interest  the  reader.  The  bills 
are  of  a  very  miscellaneous  nature — a  chance  saving  from  a 
bundle  of  household  and  other  expenses  of  the  years  1674, 
1675,  and  1676.  They  include  charges  for  a  French  coach, 
and  for  a  great  cipher  from  the  chariot  painter ;  for  a  bedstead, 
with  silver  ornaments ;  for  side-boxes  at  the  Duke's  Theatre, 
to  which  she  never  went  alone,  but  often  with  as  many  as  four 
people,  Nell  paying  for  all ;  for  great  looking-glasses ;  for 
cleansing  and  burnishing  the  warming-pan ;  for  the  hire  of 
sedan-chairs ;  for  dress,  furniture,  and  table  expenses ;  for 
white  satin  petticoats,  and  white  and  red  satin  nightgowns ; 
for  kilderkins  of  strong  ale,  ordinary  ale,  and  "  a  barrel  of 
eights ;  "  for  alms  to  poor  men  and  women ;  for  oats  and  beans, 
and  "chaney"  oranges  at  threepence  each;  "for  a  fine  land- 
skip  fan  ; "  for  scarlet  satin  shoes  covered  with  silver  lace,  and  a 
pair  of  satin  shoes  laced  over  with  gold  for  "  Master  Charles." 
One  or  two  of  these  documents  have  escaped  entire.  A  bill 
for  her  sedan-chair  runs  as  follows : — 

*  1679,  30  July.  Mrs.  Ellinor  Gwin,  w.  Burial  Register  of  St.  Martin' s-in-the-Fields. 
See  also  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  November,  1851,  p.  470. 


96 


THE   STORY   OF   NELL   GWYN. 


June  17,  1675. 

The  body  of  the  chaire 

the  best  neats  leather  to  cover  the  outside 

600  inside  nailes,  coulered  and  bumishd     . 

600  guilt  with  water  gold  at  5^.  per  cent 

1200  outside  nailes,  the  same  gold,  at  Ss.  per  cent 

300  studds,  the  same  gold      .... 

2000  halfe  roofe  nailes,  the  same  gold 

200  toppit  nailes,  same  gold   .... 

5  sprigs  for  the  top,  rich  guilt     .... 

a  haspe  for  the  doore,  rich  guilt 

ffor  change  of  4  glasses 

2  pound  5^.  for  one  new  glasse,  to  be  abated  out  of 

that  ffor  a  broken  glasse  15X 

ffor  guilding  windows  and  irons     . 

Serge  ffor  the  bottom 

canuisse  to  put  vnder  the  leather  . 

all  sorts  of  iron  nailes 

workmanshipe  the  chaire  inside  and  outside  . 

Relet,  dated  13  July,  1675,  for  "  30/  in  full  discharge.' 


£  s.    d. 


•  3 

10 

0 

0 

10 

0 

.  0 

II 

0 

I 

10 

0 

•  4 

16 

0 

.  I 

16 

0 

.  I 

14 

0 

•  3 

14 

0 

•  4 

0 

0 

.  I 

10 

0 

.  2 

0 

0 

I 

10 

0 

I 

5 

0 

.  0 

2 

0 

.  0 

8 

0 

.  0 

5 

0 

.  2 

10 

0 

34    II      o 


That  she  did  not  always  employ  her  own  sedan  is  evident 


from  the  following  bill  :- 


For  careing  you  to  Mrs,  Knights  and  to  Madam 
Younges,  and  to  Madam  Churchfillds,  and  wating 
four  oures        ........ 

For  careing  you  the  next  day,  and  wating  seven  oures 

For  careing  you  to  Mrs.  Knights,  and  to  Mrs.  Cassells, 
and  to  Mrs.  Churchills,  and  to  Mrs.  Knights      .     . 

For  careing  one  Lady  Sanes  to  y'  play  at  White  Halle, 
and  wayting    ........ 

For  careing  you  yesterday,  and  wayting  eleven  oures 


Y'  some  is 


13  October,  75. 
Reed,  them  of  Tho.  Groundes  in  full 
and  all  other  demands  from  Madam 


o      3 
o    II 


I    II 


of  these  Bills  ) 
Gwin,  ) 

by  me    William  Calow. 


HER   BEDSTEAD.  9/ 

Chairman  Callow,  with  singular  discreetness,  omits,  It  will  be 
seen,  to  name  the  places  at  which  he  waited  longest.  Eleven 
shillings  and  sixpence  seems  very  little  for  carrying  and  wait- 
ino-  eleven  hours.  But  the  most  curious  bill,  and  it  is  one  with 
which  I  have  been  only  recently  supplied,  is  a  silversmith's — 
in  which  the  principal  sum  is  a  charge  for  making  a  bedstead 
for  Nelly,  with  ornaments  of  silver,  such  as  the  King's  head, 
slaves,  eagles,  crowns,  and  Cupids,  and  Jacob  Hall  dancing  upon 
a  rope  of  wire-work.     The  document  must  be  given  entire :  — 

Work  done  for  y'  righte  Hon''''.  Madame  Guinne. 
John  Cooqus,  siluersmyth  his  bill. 

1674,  Deliuered  the  head  of  y'  bedstead  weighing  885 
onces  12  lb.  and  I  haue  received  6^6  onces  15 
dweight  so  that  their  is  over  and  aboue  of  me 
owne  siluer  two  hundred  [and]  forty  eight  onces 
17  dweight  at  7s.  ud.  par  once  (y*  siluer  being 
a  d't  worse  par  once  according  y*  reste)  wich     jQ  s.     d. 

comes  to .     98  10     2 

For  y*  making  of  y'  636  onces  15  d't  at  2^.  11^. 

par  once,  comes  to 92  17     3 

onces.  dweight. 

Deliuered  y'  kings  head  weighing 

one  figure  weighing        .... 

y'  other  figure  with  y*  caracter  weighing 

y*  slaues  and  y'  reste  belonging  unto  it 

y'  two  Eagles  weighing 

one  of  the  crowne[s]  weighing 

y*  second  crown  weighing  . 

y*  third  crowne  weighing 

y"  fowerd  crowne  weighing 

one  of  y'  Cupids  weighing 

y*  second  boye  weighing    . 

y*  third  boye  weighing  .... 

y'  fowered  boye  weighing  . 

Altogether  two  thousand  two  hundred  sexty  fiue 
onces  2**  wight  of  sterling  siluer  at  Zs.  par  once, 
comes  to 906     o  10 


197 

5 

445 

15 

428 

5 

255 

169 

10 

94 

5 

97 

10 

90 

2 

82 

121 

8 

lOI 

10 

93 

15 

88 

17 

98  THE    STORY    OF    NELL    G\\TN. 

Paid  for  y*  Essayes  of  y*  figures  and  other  things     jT^    s.     d. 

into  y*  Tower      .         .         .         .         .         .         .050 

Paid  for  iacob  haalle   [Jacob  Hall]   dansing  upon 

y*  robbe  [rope]  of  Weyer  Worck  *  .  .  .  i  10  o 
For  y"  cleinsing  and  brunisching  a  sugar  box,   a 

pepper  box,  a  mustard  pott  and  two  kruyzes  .  .  0120 
For  mending  y'  greatte  siluer  andyrons  .  .  .  o  10  o 
Paid  to  y'  cabbenet  maker  for  y*  greatte  bord  for 

y*  head  of  the  bedstead  and  for  y'  other  bord 

that  comes  under   it   and boorring  the 

wholles  into  y*  head    .         .         .         .         .         .300 

Paid  to  Mr.  Consar  for  karuing  y*  said  bord       .     .       100 
For  y*  bettering  y*  sodure  wich  was  in  the  old  bed- 
stead         5     3     7 

Paid  to  y*  smid  for  y'  2  yome  hoops  and  for  y*  6 

yorn  baars  krampes  and  nealles  .  .  .,150 
Paid  for  y'  woodden  pied  de  staall  for  one  of  y* 

figures 046 

Paid  y*  smith  for  a  hoock  to  hang  up  a  branche 

candlestick      .         .         .         .         .         .         ..020 

Paid  to  y*  smith  for  y'  baars  kramps  and  nealles 

to  hold  up  y'  slaues 050 

Given  to  me  Journey  man  by  order  of  Madame 

Guinne  .         .         .         .         .         .         .         ..100 

Paid  to  y*  smyth  for  y*  yorn  worck  to  hold  up  y' 

Eagles  and  for  y'  two  hoocks  to  hold  the  bedstead 

again  the  wall  .  .  .  .  .  ,  .030 
Paid  for  )•*  pied  de  stalle  of  Ebony  to  hold  up  the 

two  georses     ,         .         .         .         .         .         ..iioo 

For  y*  mending  of  y'  goold  hower  glasse        .        .026 
Deliuered  two  siluer  bottels  weighing  37  onces  17 

d't  at  8x.  par  once,  comes  to 15     2     9 

Paid  for  y'  other  foot  to  hold  up  y'  other  figure     .       046 
For  sodering  y*  wholles  and  for  repairing  mending 

and  cleinsing  the  two  figures  of  Mr.  Traheme  his 

making   .         .         .         .         .         ..         .,300 

For  y*  making  of  a  crowne  upon  one  of  y'  figures  .       100 

*  In  another  bill  I  observe  a  charge  "  for  y'  cleensing  of  Jacobs  baile  of  weyer  worck. 


DEATH    OF    MRS.    ROBERTS.  99 

Giuen  to   me  iourney  man  by  order  of  Madame     J[^    s.     d. 
Guinne        .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .100 

Deliuered  a  handel  of  a  kneif  weighing  1 1  dweight 
more  than  y'  old  one  wich  comes  with  y*  making 
of  it  to o     5  10 

For  y'  cleinsing  of  eight  pictures    .         .         .         .       o  10     o 

In  all  comes  to    ;^ii35     3     i* 


And  now,  quitting  Nelly's  household  and  other  expenses,  it 
is  time  to  turn  to  matters  of  more  moment. 

In  the  autumn  of  1679  died  Mrs.  Roberts,  the  daughter  of 
a  clergyman,  who  had  lived  with  the  King,  though  she  is  not 
known  to  have  had  any  children  by  him.f  She  had  sent  for 
Burnet  when  dying,  and  expressed  her  sense  of  sorrow  for  her 
past  life  in  so  sincere  a  manner,  that  he  desired  her  to  describe 
her  contrition  in  a  letter  to  the  King.  At  her  request  Burnet 
drew  the  draft  of  such  a  letter,  but  she  never  had  strencrth 
enough  to  copy  it  out.  Burnet  on  this  wrote  in  his  own  name 
to  the  King,  and  sent  a  strong  letter  of  remonstrance  through 
Will  Chiffinch,  the  keeper  of  the  backstairs.  Seldom,  indeed, 
has  a  sovereign  been  addressed  so  boldly  as  by  Burnet  in  this 
letter.  J  The  King  read  it  twice  over,  and  then  threw  it  in  the 
fire;  expressing  himself  not  long  after  with  great  sharpness 
when  Burnet's  name  was  mentioned  to  him.  But  Charles  had 
his  own  way,  in  this  life  at  least,  of  atoning  for  his  misdeeds, 
and  to  one  of  his  best  actions  he  is  said  to  have  been  instigated 
by  no  less  a  person  than  Nell  Gwyn. 

*In  the  Works'  Accounts  of  the  Crown  at  Whitehall,  in  1662-3,  Js  a  payment  0^53  i2j-. 
2^.)  to  Paul  Audley  "  for  silvering  a  rayle  to  goe  about  the  Duchess  of  York's  bed,  with 
seven  pedestals  and  60  Ballisters."  The  bed,  as  was  long  the  custom,  stood  in  an  alcove  off 
and  yet  in  the  bed-chamber. 

\  Unless,  indeed,  the  "  Carola  Roberts,"  of  the  Secret  Service  Expenses  of  Charles  II. 
is  the  daughter  of  this  Mrs.  Roberts  by  the  King. 

J  Burnet,  i.  457,  ii.  287,  and  vi.  257,  Ed.  1823  ;  also  Calamy's  Life,  ii.  83. 


lOO  THE   STORY   OF   NELL   GWYN. 

This  was  the  erection  of  a  Royal  Hospital  at  Chelsea  for 
aged  and  disabled  soldiers,  the  first  stone  of  which  was  laid  by 
the  King  himself  in  the  spring  of  1682.  The  idea,  it  is  said, 
originated  with  Nelly,  and  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  the  tradi- 
tion, supported  as  it  is  by  the  known  benevolence  of  her  char- 
acter, her  sympathy  with  the  suffering,  and  the  fact  that  sixty 
years  ago  at  least  Nelly's  share  in  its  foundation  was  recorded 
beneath  her  portrait  serving  as  the  sign  of  a  public-house  ad- 
joining the  Hospital.*  The  sign  remains,  but  not  the  inscrip- 
tion. Yet  the  tradition  is  still  rife  in  Chelsea,  and  is  not  soon 
likely  to  die  out.  Ormonds,  and  Granbys,  and  Admiral  Ver- 
nons  disappear,  but  Nelly  remains,  and  long  may  she  swing 
with  her  favourite  lamb  in  the  row  or  street  commemorated  for 
ever  in  the  Chelsea  Pensioners  of  Wilkie  ! 

There  were  thousands  alive  when  the  Hospital  was  first 
thought  of,  who  carried  about  them  marks  of  service  in  the 
recent  struggle  which  distracted  the  three  kingdoms,  in  a  way 
in  which,  let  us  hope,  they  will  never  again  be  made  to  suffer. 
There  were  old  men  who  had  foucrht  at  Edo^e  Hill  and  Marston 
Moor,  and  younger  ones  who  could  show  that  they  had  bled  at 
Naseby  or  at  Worcester.  The  Restoration  had  witnessed  the 
establishment  of  a  standing  army,  and  many  of  Cromwell's 
Ironsides  filling  the  ranks  of  the  Coldstream  Guards  and  Ox- 
ford Blues  were  now  unfit  for  active  service,  and  younger  men 
were  required  to  fill  their  places.  What  was  to  become  of  the 
veterans  when  their  pay  was  gone?  Their  trade  had  been 
war,  and  their  pay  never  sufficient  for  more  than  their  imme- 
diate wants.  But  for  Chelsea  Hospital  they  might  have  starved 
on  the  casual  bounty  of  the  people  and  the  chance  assistance 
of  their  younger  comrades. 

In  an  age  when  new  books  were  numerous — and  few  ap- 
peared without  a  dedication — it  is  natural  to  infer  that  Nelly 

*  Lysons'  Environs  of  London,  vol.  ii.  p.  155. 


DEDICATIONS    TO    NELLY.  lOI 

would  not  escape.  Three  dedications  to  her  are  known.  One 
in  1674,  by  Duffet,  before  his  play  of  "The  Spanish  Rogue  ;  " 
a  second  in  1678,  by  Whitcombe,  before  a  rare  little  volume 
called  "Janua  Divorum:  or  the  Lives  and  Histories  of  the 
Heathen  Gods;"  and  a  third  in  1679,  by  Mrs.  Behn,  before 
her  play  of  "The  Feigned  Courtezans."  All  are  adulatory. 
Duffet  was  unknown  to  her,  and  he  was  not  certain,  he  tells  us, 
that  Nelly  had  ever  seen  his  play.  It  was,  however,  necessary, 
he  observes,  to  have  a  dedication  to  his  book,  and  he  selected 
"Madam  Ellen  Gwyn,"  deeming  that  "under  the  protection 
of  the  most  perfect  beauty  and  the  greatest  goodness  in  the 
world"  his  play  would  be  safe.  "Nature,"  says  Duffet,  "al- 
most overcome  by  Art,  has  in  yourself  rallied  all  her  scattered 
forces,  and  on  your  charming  brow  sits  smiling  at  their  slavish 
toils  which  yours  and  her  envious  foes  endure ;  striving  in  vain 
with  the  fading  weak  supplies  of  Art  to  rival  your  beauties, 
which  are  ever  the  same  and  always  incomparable."  This  is 
highflown  enough  ;  but  all  is  not  like  this ;  and  there  is  one 
passage  which  deserves  to  be  remembered.  Nelly,  he  says, 
was  so  readily  and  frequently  doing  good,  "as  if"  he  observes, 
"  doing  good  were  not  her  nature,  but  her  business."  The 
person  who  wrote  thus  happily  had  been  a  milliner  in  the  New 
Exchange  before  he  took  to  literature  as  a  profession. 

Whitcombe  inscribes  his  book  "To  the  illustrious  Madam 
Ellen  Gwyn ; "  but  Aphra  Behn,  the  Astrea  of  the  stage,  is 
still  stronger ;  "  Your  permission  has  enlightened  me,  and  I 
with  shame  look  back  on  my  past  ignorance  which  suffered  me 
not  to  pay  an  adoration  long  since  where  there  was  so  very 
much  due ;  yet  even  now,  though  secure  in  my  opinion,  I  make 
this  sacrifice  with  infinite  fear  and  trembling,  well  knowing 
that  so  excellent  and  perfect  a  creature  as  yourself  differs  only 
from  the  divine  powers  in  this — the  offerings  made  to  you  ought 
to  be  worthy  of  you,  whilst  they  accept  the  will  alone."     Well 


I02  THE   STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

might  Johnson  observe,  that  in  the  meanness  and  servility  of 
hyperbolical  adulation,  Dryden  had  never  been  equalled,  ex- 
cept by  Aphra  Behn  in  an  address  to  Eleanor  Gwyn.  But  the 
arrow  of  adulation  is  not  yet  drawn  to  the  head,  and  Mrs. 
Behn  goes  on  to  say,  "  Besides  all  the  charms,  and  attractions, 
and  powers  of  your  sex,  you  have  beauties  peculiar  to  yourself 
— an  eternal  sweetness,  youth,  and  air  which  never  dwelt  in 
any  face  but  yours.  You  never  appear  but  you  glad  the  hearts 
of  all  that  have  the  happy  fortune  to  see  you,  as  if  you  were 
made  on  purpose  to  put  the  whole  world  into  good  humour." 
This  however  is  not  all,  for  the  strain  turns  to  her  children,  and 
her  own  humility,  and  is  therefore  nearer  the  truth.  "  Heaven 
has  bestowed  on  you,"  adds  Aphra,  "  two  noble  branches,  whom 
you  have  permitted  to  wear  those  glorious  titles  which  you 
yourself  generously  neglected."  Two  noble  branches  indeed 
they  were,  if  the  graver  of  Blooteling,  who  wrought  while  Nelly 
was  alive,  has  not  done  more  than  justice  to  their  looks. 

Troubles  were  now  surrounding  Nelly.  At  Paris,  in  Sep- 
tember, 1680,  died  James  Lord  Beauclerk,  her  second  and 
youngest  son.  In  the  summer  of  the  succeeding  year,  Lacy, 
the  actor  was  buried  in  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  whither  she 
herself  was  soon  to  follow.  In  1683  died  Charles  Hart,  her 
old  admirer;  and  in  the  following  year  died  Major  Mohun.  A 
garter  and  other  honours  awaited  the  son  of  her  old  rival,  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth.  Yet  she  was  still  cheerful,  and  sought 
even  more  assiduously  for  other  honours  for  her  only  child.  Nor 
was  the  King  unwilling  to  hearken  to  the  entreaties  of  Nelly 
in  her  boy's  behalf.  On  the  loth  of  January,  1683-4,  eight 
days  after  the  death  of  old  Henry  Jermyn,  Earl  of  St.  Alban's, 
the  boy  Earl  of  Burford  was  created  Duke  of  St.  Alban's  and 
appointed  to  the  then  lucrative  offices  of  Registrar  of  the  High 
Court  of  Chancery  and  Master  Falconer  of  England.  The 
latter  office  is  still  enjoyed  by  the  present  Duke  of  St.  Albans. 


HER   ONLY    LETTER.  IO3 

The  only  letter  of  Nelly's  composition  known  to  exist 
relates  to  this  period  of  her  life.  It  is  written  on  a  sheet  of 
very  thin  gilt-edged  paper,  in  a  neat,  Italian  hand,  not  her 
own,  and  is  thus  addressed  : — 

"  These  for  Madam  Jennings  over  against  the  Tub 
Tavern  in  Jermyn  Street,  London. 

"  Windsor,  Bur  ford  House, 
April  14,  16S4. 

"  Madam. — I  have  received  y'  Letter,  and  I  desire  y"  would  speake  to  my 
Ladie  Williams  to  send  me  the  Gold  Stuffe,  &  a  Note  with  it,  because  I  must 
sign  it,  then  she  shall  have  her  money  y'  next  Day  of  Mr.  Trant  ;  pray  tell  her 
Ladieship,  that  I  will  send  her  a  Note  of  what  Quantity  of  Things  I'le  have 
bought,  if  her  Ladieship  will  put  herselfe  to  y*  Trouble  to  buy  them  ;  when 
they  are  bought  I  will  sign  a  Note  for  her  to  be  payd.  Pray  Madam,  let 
y'  Man  goe  on  with  my  Sedan,  and  send  Potvin  and  Mr.  Coker  down  to  me, 
for  I  want  them  both.  The  Bill  is  very  dear  to  boyle  the  Plate,  but  necessity 
hath  noe  Law.  I  am  afraid  M"".  you  have  forgott  my  Mantle,  which  you  were 
to  line  with  Musk  Colour  Sattin,  and  all  my  other  Things,  for  you  send  me 
noe  Patterns  nor  Answer.  Monsieur  Lainey  is  going  away.  Pray  send  me 
word  about  your  son  Griffin,  for  his  Majestic  is  mighty  well  pleased  that  he 
will  goe  along  with  my  Lord  Duke.  I  am  afraid  you  are  so  much  taken  up 
with  your  owne  House  that  you  forget  my  Business.  My  service  to  dear  Lord 
Kildare,  and  tell  him  I  love  him  with  all  my  heart.  Pray  M".  see  that  Potvin 
brings  now  all  my  Things  with  him  :  My  Lord  Duke's  bed,  &c.  if  he  hath  not 
made  them  all  up,  he  may  doe  that  here,  for  if  I  doe  not  get  my  Things  out 
of  his  Hands  now,  I  shall  not  have  them  until  this  time  twelvemonth.  The 
Duke  brought  me  down  with  him  my  Crochet  of  Diamonds  ;  and  I  love  it  the 
better  because  he  brought  it.  Mr.  Lumley  and  everie  body  else  will  tell  you 
that  it  is  the  finest  Thing  that  ever  was  seen.  Good  M™.  speake  to  Mr.  Beaver 
to  come  down  too,  that  I  may  bespeake  a  Ring  for  the  Duke  of  Grafton  be- 
fore he  goes  into  France. 

"  I  have  continued  extreme  ill  ever  since  you  left  me,  and  I  am  soe  still. 
I  have  sent  to  London  for  a  Dr.  I  believe  I  shall  die.  My  service  to  the 
Duchess  of  Norfolk  and  tell  her,  I  am  as  sick  as  her  Grace,  but  do  not  know 
what  I  ayle,  although  shee  does.  .  .  . 

"  Pray  tell  my  Ladie  Williams  that  the  King's  Mistresses  are  accounted  ill 
paymasters,  but  shee  shall  have  her  Money  the  next  Day  after  I  have  the  stuffe. 


104  THE   STORY   OF   NELL   GWYN. 

"  Here  is  a  sad  slaughter  at  Windsor,  the  young  mens  taking  y'  Leaves  and 

going  to  France,  and,  although  they  are  none  of  my  Lovers,  yet  I  am  loath  to 

part  with  the  men.      Mrs.  Jennings  I  love  you  with  all  my  Heart  and  soe 

good  bye. 

"E.G." 

"  Let  me  have  an  Answer  to  this  Letter." 

This  highly  characteristic  letter  was  found  by  Cole,  and 
transmitted  to  Walpole,  who  has  expressed  the  delight  he  felt 
at  its  perusal.  Who  Madam  Jennings  was  I  am  not  aware; 
nor  have  I  succeeded  in  discovering  anything  of  moment  about 
Lady  Williams.  Potvin  was  an  upholsterer.'"'  The  Duchess 
of  Norfolk  was  the  daughter  and  sole  heir  of  Henry  Mordaunt 
Earl  of  Peterborough,  and  Nelly  would  appear  to  have  been 
on  intimate  terms  with  her.  When,  on  account  of  her  Grace's 
illicit  intimacy  with  Sir  John  Germain,  her  divorce  from  the 
Duke  was  before  a  court  of  law,  Nelly's  evidence,  imperfectly 
as  it  has  reached  us,  was  very  characteristic  of  her  mode  of 
reply  even  to  an  ordinary  question.  Germain  had  sought,  it 
appears,  to  seduce  her  from  the  King,  and  Nell  is  said  to  have 
replied,  "she  was  no  such  sportsman  as  to  lay  the  dog  where 
the  deer  should  lie."  Sir  John  Germain,  afterwards  married 
to  the  Duchess,  was  a  Dutch  adventurer,  of  mean  extraction, 
grown  rich  by  gambling.  The  father  of  Secretary  Craggs  was 
footman  to  the  gallant  Duchess. 

When  the  Rye  House  Plot  had  given  to  Charles  a  great 
distaste  for  Newmarket  and  Audley  End,  he  determined  on 
building  a  palace  at  Winchester,  and  Wren  was  required  to 
design  a  structure  worthy  of  the  site  and  the  monarch.  The 
works  were  commenced  in  earnest,  and  Charles  was  often  at 
Winchester  watching  the  progress  of  the  building,  and  enjoy- 
ing the  sports  of  the  chase  in  the  New  Forest,  or  his  favourite 

*  Privy  Purse  Expenses  of  the  Reigns  of  Charles  IL  and  James  11.  printed  by  the 
Camden  Society,  p.  i86.  "  Tho.  Otway  "  and  "  Jhon  Poietevin  "  are  witnesses  to  a  power  of 
attorney  of  Nelly's,  now  in  Mr.  Robert  Cole's  possession. 


NELLY    AT    WINCHESTER.  IO5 

relaxation  of  fishing  in  the  waters  of  the  Itchin.  Nelly  accom- 
panied him  to  Winchester,  and  on  one  occasion  the  pious  and 
learned  Ken,  then  a  chaplain  to  the  King,  and  a  prebendary  of 
Winchester,  was  required  to  surrender  his  prebendal  house  as  a 
lodging  for  Nelly.  •'"  Ken  properly  remonstrated,  and,  if  it  be  in- 
deed true  that  she  had  taken  possession  of  the  assigned  lodging, 
she  speedily  removed  from  it.  f  Nor  was  the  King  displeased 
with  the  firmness  displayed  by  this  exemplary  man.  He  knew 
that  Ken  was  right ;  appreciated  his  motives ;  and  one  of  his 
last  acts  was  to  make  the  very  person  by  whom  he  was  thus 
so  properly  admonished  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells,  the  see  of 
which  he  chose  to  be  conscientiously  deprived,  as  Bancroft 
from  Canterbury,  rather  than  forget  the  oath  he  had  taken 
of  fealty  to  a  former  sovereign. 

Unable  to  obtain  or  retain  the  use  of  the  canonical  apart- 
ments of  the  pious  Ken,  Nelly  found  quarters  in  a  small  at- 
tached room  of  brick  at  the  end  of  the  laro^e  drawinof-room 
in  the  Deanery,  still  from  tradition  called  "  Nell  Gwyn  "  J  and 
afterwards  at  Avington,  the  seat  of  the  Countess  of  Shrews- 
bury, notorious  for  the  part  she  took  in  the  duel  in  which  her 
husband  was  slain  by  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  Avington  lies 
about  three  miles  to  the  north-east  of  Winchester,  and  before 
the  death  of  the  last  Duke  of  Chandos  Nelly's  dressing-room 
was  still  shown.  §  Another  attraction  of  the  same  house  was  a 
fine  characteristic  portrait,  by  Lely,  of  the  Countess  of  Shrews- 
bury as  Minerva,  recently  sold  at  the  sale  at  Stowe,  whither  it 
had  been  removed  from  Avington  with  the  rest  of  the  Chandos 
property. 

Ken's  refusal  occurred  probably  during  the  last  visit  which 

*  Hawkins's  Life  of  Ken. 

f  The  tradition  at  Winchester  was,  that  Nell  refused  to  move,  and  did  not  move  till  part 
of  the  roof  was  taken  off.     (Bowles's  Life  of  Ken,  vol.  ii.  p.  7.) 

f  Bowles's  Life  of  Ken,  vol.  ii.  p.  56.  §  Forster's  Stowe  Catalogue  179. 


I06  THE   STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

Nelly  was  to  make  to  Winchester.  The  following  winter  was 
spent  by  the  court  at  Whitehall,  amid  gaieties  common  to  that 
festive  season ;  and  what  these  gaieties  were  like  we  may  learn 
from  the  picture  of  a  Sunday  preser\'ed  by  Evelyn.  "  I  can 
never  forget,"  says  the  high-minded  author  of  Sylva,  "  the  inex- 
pressible luxury  and  profaneness,  gaming,  and  all  dissolute- 
ness, and,  as  it  were,  a  total  forgetfulness  of  God  (it  being 
Sunday  evening),  which  this  day  se'nnight  I  was  witness  of; 
the  King  sitting  and  toying  with  his  concubines,  Portsmouth, 
Cleveland,  Mazarine,  &c.,  a  French  boy  singing  love  songs  in 
that  glorious  gallery,  whilst  about  twenty  of  the  great  courtiers 
and  other  dissolute  persons  were  at  basset  round  a  large  table, 
a  bank  of  at  least  ;^2,ooo  in  gold  before  them ;  upon  which  two 
gentlemen  who  were  with  me  made  strange  reflections.  Six 
days  after  all  was  in  the  dust."  *  The  fatal  termination  of  this 
Sunday  scene  was  even  more  sudden  than  Evelyn  has  de- 
scribed. The  revels  extended  over  Sunday  night  until  the 
next  morning.  At  eight  of  that  same  morning  the  King 
swooned  away  in  his  chair,  and  lay  for  nearly  two  hours  in  a 
state  of  apoplexy,  all  his  physicians  despairing  of  his  recovery. 
He  rallied  for  a  time,  regained  possession  of  his  intellects,  and 
died,  on  the  following  Friday,  sensible  of  his  sins,  and  seeking 
forgiveness  from  his  Maker.  His  end  was  that  of  a  man,  never 
repining  that  it  was  so  sudden  ;  and  his  good-nature  was  ex- 
hibited on  his  death-bed  in  a  thousand  particulars.  He  sought 
pardon  from  his  queen,  forgiveness  from  his  brother,  and  the 
excuses  of  those  who  stood  watching  about  his  bed.  What  his 
last  words  were,  is  I  believe  unknown ;  but  his  dying  requests 
made  to  his  brother  and  successor,  concluded  with  "  Let  not 
poor  Nelly  star\'e ; "  f  a  recommendation,  says  Fox,  in  his 
famous  introductory  chapter,  that  is  much  to  his  honour. 
That  Charles  II.  was  poisoned  was  the  belief  of  many  at 

*Evel>Ti,  4  Feb.  1684-5,  f^""'^''  "•  4'J°>  ^^-  ^823.     Evelyn,  4  Feb.  1684-5. 


DEATH    OF    CHARLES    H.  IO7 

the  time.  It  was  the  fashion  in  that  as  in  the  preceding  age, 
to  attribute  the  sudden  death  of  any  great  person  to  poison, 
and  the  rumour  on  this  occasion  should,  we  suppose,  form  no 
exception  to  the  rule  of  vulgar  delusions.  Yet  in  Charles's 
case  the  suspicions  are  not  without  support  from  apparently 
rather  weighty  authorities.  "  I  am  obliged  to  observe,"  says 
Sheffield,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  "  that  the  most  knowing  and 
the  most  deserving  of  all  his  physicians  did  not  only  believe 
him  poisoned,  but  thought  himself  so  too,  not  long  after,  for 
having  declared  his  opinion  a  little  too  boldly."  *  Bishop 
Patrick  strengthens  the  supposition,  from  the  testimony  of  Sir 
Thomas  Mellington,  who  sat  with  the  King  for  three  days,  and 
never  went  to  bed  for  three  nights,  f  The  Chesterfield,  who 
lived  among  many  who  were  likely  to  be  well  informed,  and 
was  himself  the  grandson  of  the  Earl  of  Chesterfield  who  was 
with  Charles  at  his  death,  states  positively  that  the  King  was 
poisoned.  J  The  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  when  in  England,  in 
1699,  is  said  to  have  told  Lord  Chancellor  Cowper  that  Charles 
II.  was  poisoned  at  her  house  by  one  of  her  footmen  in  a  dish 
of  chocolate,  §  and  Fox  had  heard  a  somewhat  similar  report 
from  the  family  of  his  m^other,  who  was  great-grand-daughter 
to  the  Duchess.  ||  The  supposed  parallel  cases  of  the  deaths 
of  Henry  Prince  of  Wales  and  King  James  I.  are  supported 
by  no  testimony  so  strong  as  that  advanced  in  the  case  of 
Charles  II. 

Had  the  King  lived,  Nelly  was  to  have  had  a  peerage  for 
herself,  and  the  title  chosen  was  that  of  Countess  of  Green- 
wich. 1[     This  of  course  she  was  not  now  likely  to  obtain — 

*  Buckingham's  Works,  ii.  S2.     8vo.  1729. 

\  Bishop  Patrick's  Autobiography,  p.  loi.  \  Letters  to  his  Son. 

§  Dean  Cowper  in  Spence's  Anecdotes,  ed.  Singer,  p.  367.  \  Fox,  p.  67. 

Tf  This  I  give  on  the  authority  of  the  curious  passage  in  a  MS.  book  by  Van  Bossen, 
kindly  placed  at  my  disposal  by  Mr.  David  Laing.     The  whole  passage  is  as  follows  : — 

"  Charles  the  2d.  naturall  sone  of  King  Charles  the  2d.  borne  of  Hcllenor  or  Nclguine, 


loS  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

if  indeed  she  would  have  cared  so  to  do.  Her  own  end  was 
near. 

dawghter  to  Thomas  Guine,  a  capitane  of  ane  antient  family  in  Wales,  who  showld  bein 
advanced  to  be  Countes  of  Greeniez,  but  hindered  by  the  king's  death,  and  she  lived  not  long 
after  his  Matie.  Item,  he  was  advanced  to  the  title  of  Duke  Stablane  and  Earl  of  Berward. 
He  is  not  married."  ("  The  Royall  Cedar,"  by  Frederick  Van  Eossen,  MS.  folio,  l683. 
p.  129.) 

One  of  the  last  acts  of  the  antiquarian  life  of  that  curious  inquirer,  Mr.  Charles  Kirk- 
patrick  Sharpe,  was  to  note  down  some  valuable  memoranda  for  this  story  of  Nell  Gwyn. 
Among  other  things,  Mr.  Sharpe  directed  Mr.  Laing's  attention  to  the  curious  entry  in  the 
volume  by  Van  Bossen,  still  in  Mr.  Laing's  possession. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Nelly  in  real  mourning,  and  outlawed  for  debt — Death  of  Otway,  tutor  to  her  son — James  II. 
pays  her  debts — The  King's  kindness  occasions  a  groundless  rumour  that  she  has  gone 
to  mass — Her  intimacy  with  Dr.  Tenison,  then  Vicar  of  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  and 
Dr.  Lower,  the  celebrated  physician — She  sends  for  Tenison  in  her  last  illness — Her 
death  and  contrite  end — Her  will  and  last  request  of  her  son — Her  funeral — Tenison 
preaches  her  funeral  sermon — False  account  of  the  sermon  cried  by  hawkers  in  the  streets 
— The  sermon  used  as  an  argument  against  Tenison's  promotion  to  the  see  of  Lincoln — 
Queen  Mary's  defence  of  him  and  of  Nelly — Her  son  the  Duke  of  St.  Alban's — Eleanor 
Gwyn  and  Harriet  Mellon — Various  portraits  of  Nelly — Further  anecdotes — Conclusion. 

It  was  no  fictitious  mourning,  for  the  Cham  of  Tartar}'-  or  a 
Prince  of  France,  which  Nelly  and  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
were  both  wearing  in  the  spring  of  1685.  Each  had  occasion, 
though  on  very  unequal  grounds,  to  lament  the  monarch  so 
suddenly  removed  from  his  gorgeous  chambers  at  Whitehall  to 
the  cold  damp  vaults  of  Westminster  Abbey.  It  was  at  this 
period  if  not  on  other  occasions,  that  Nelly  must  have  called  to 
mind  Shirley's  noble  song,  which  old  Bowman  used  to  sing  to 
King  Charles : 

The  glories  of  our  blood  and  state 

Are  shadows,  not  substantial  things  ; 
There  is  no  armour  against  fate  : 

Death  lays  his  icy  hands  on  Kings. 

Lely  should  have  painted  Nelly  in  her  mourning;  but 
the  delicate  hand  which  drew  with  so  much  grace  the  Beau- 
ties of  King  Charles  the  Second's  Court,  and  Nelly  with  her 
Iamb  among  them,  was  lying  torpid  under  the  church  in  Co- 
vent  Garden,  and  the  painters  who  succeeded  him,  Wissing, 


no  THE    STORY    OF    NELL    GA\TN. 

Kneller,  and  Verelst,  had  little  skill  in  transferring  from  life 
to  canvas  those  essential  graces  of  expression  which  Lely 
caught  so  inimitably  in  his  La  Belle  Hamilton  and  his  Madame 
Gwyn. 

While  her  grief  was  still  fresh,  Nelly  had  occasion  to  re- 
member the  friend  she  had  lost.  The  King's  mistresses,  as 
Nelly  herself  informs  us,  were  accounted  but  ill  paymasters,  for 
the  King  himself  was  often  at  a  loss  for  money,  and  the  ladies 
were,  we  may  safely  suppose,  generally  in  advance  of  the  allow- 
ances assigned  them.  The  "gold  stuff"  was  indeed  scarcer 
than  ever  with  her  in  the  spring  of  the  year  in  which  the  King 
died,  and  we  know  what  became  of  at  least  some  of  her  plate 
only  a  year  before.  "The  bill  is  very  dear,"  she  says,  "to  boil 
the  plate ;  but  necessity  hath  no  law."  What  was  to  be  done  ? 
shopkeepers  were  pressing  with  their  bills,  and  the  apprentices 
who  w^ould  have  at  once  released  "  Protestant  Nelly  "  from  their 
own  books  had  no  control  over  those  of  their  masters  ;  so  Nelly, 
if  not  actually  arrested  for  debt  in  the  spring  of  1685,  was  cer- 
tainly outlawed  for  the  non-payment  of  certain  bills,  for  which 
some  of  her  trades-people,  since  the  death  of  the  King,  had 
become  perseveringly  clamorous. 

Nelly's  resources  at  this  period  were  slender  enough.  In 
the  King's  lifetime,  and  after  Prince  Rupert's  death,  she  had 
paid  to  Peg  Hughes  the  actress  and  her  daughter  Ruperta  as 
much  as  4520/.,  "  for  the  great  pearl  necklace  "  which  she  wears 
in  so  many  of  her  portraits.'"  This  would  now  probably  pass 
to  the  neck  of  another  mistress  (such  is  the  lottery  of  life  and 
jewels,) — perhaps  to  that  of  Katherine  Sedley,  Countess  of 
Dorchester ;  but  Nelly  would  not  care  much  about  this :  it 
went  more  to  her  heart  to  hear  that  during  her  own  outlawry 
for  debt  her  old  friend  Otway,  the  tutor  of  her  son — the  poet, 
whose  writings  she  must  have  loved — had  died  of  starvation, 

♦Warburton's  Prince  Rupert,  iii.  558. 


NELLY  DOES  NOT  STARVE.  Ill 

without  a  sympathising  Nelly  near  at  hand  to  relieve  the  wants 
in  which  she  herself  was  now  participating.""* 

It  was  Nelly's  good  fortune,  however,  never  to  be  without  a 
friend  willing  and  able  to  assist  her.  The  new  King  had  not 
forgotten  the  dying  request  of  his  only  brother,  "  Let  not  poor 
Nelly  starve :  "  above  all  he  had  not  forgotten  Nelly's  conduct 
during  that  hard  period  of  his  life  when  the  Bill  of  Exclusion 
was  pushed  in  both  houses  with  a  warmth  and  animosity  which 
argued  indifferently  for  his  obtaining  the  crown  to  which  he 
was  entitled.  James,  though  in  trouble  himself — Monmouth 
had  landed  at  Lyme,  and  the  battle  of  Sedgemoor  was  not  yet 
fought — found  time  in  the  midst  of  his  anxieties  to  attend  to 
his  brother's  last  request ;  the  secret  service  expenses  of  the 
King  (only  recently  brought  to  light)  exhibiting  a  payment  to 
Richard  Graham,  Esq.,  of  729/.  2s.  3^.  "to  be  by  him  paid 
over  to  the  several  tradesmen,  creditors  of  Mrs.  Ellen  Gwyn, 
in  satisfaction  of  their  debts  for  which  the  said  Ellen  stood 
outlawed."  t 

Nor  was  this  the  only  way  in  which  James  exhibited  his 
regard  for  Nelly,  and  his  remembrance  of  a  brother  to  whom 
he  was  sincerely  attached.  In  the  same  year  in  which  he 
relieved  Nelly  from  her  outlawry,  two  additional  payments  of 
500/.  each  were  made  to  her  by  way  of  royal  bounty ;  and  two 
years  afterwards  the  same  book  of  accounts  records  a  payment 
to  Sir  Stephen  Fox  of  1256/.  Oi".  2d.  for  so  much  by  him  paid 
to  Sir  Robert  Clayton,  the  alderman  and  great  city  merchant, 
in  full  of  3774/.  2^-.  6d.  for  redeeming  the  mortgages  to  Sir 
John  Musters,  of  Beskwood  Park,  for  settling  the  same  for  life 
upon  Mrs.  Ellen  Gwyn,  "and  after  her  death  upon  the  Duke 

*Ot\vay  died  14  April,  1685.  He  dedicated  his  "Venice  Preserved"  to  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth. 

f  Secret  Service  Expenses  of  Charles  II.  and  James  II.  (printed  for  the  Camden  Society), 
p.  109. 


112  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   G\VYN. 

of  St.  Alban's,  and  his  issue  male,  with  the  reversion  in  the 
crown."  *  Beskwood  Park  is  in  the  county  of  Nottingham,  on 
the  borders  of  merry  Sherwood,  and  was  long  an  appurtenance 
to  the  Crown,  eagerly  sought  for  by  royal  favourites.  Whether 
it  remains  in  the  possession  of  the  present  Duke  of  St.  Alban's, 
as  the  descendant  of  Nelly,  I  am  not  aware. 

James's  kindness  to  Nelly,  and  his  known  design  of  recon- 
ciling the  nation  to  the  Church  of  Rome,  gave  rise  to  a  rumour, 
perpetuated  by  Evelyn  in  his  Memoirs,  that  she  at  this  time 
"was  said  to  go  to  mass."  He  alludes  to  her  conversion  In  the 
same  brief  entry  with  that  of  Dryden : — "such  proselytes,"  he 
adds,  "were  of  no  great  loss  to  the  Church."!  The  rumour 
as  to  her,  however,  was  untrue.  Nelly  was  firm  to  the  Pro- 
testant   relioion — so   firm   indeed   that  her  adherence  to  the 

o 

faith  of  our  fathers   is  one   of  the   marked  characteristics  of 
her  life. 

Some  strict  disciplinarians  of  the  Church  will  hear  perhaps 
with  a  smile  that  Nell  Gwyn  was  troubled  at  any  time  with  a 
thought  about  religion.  But  their  incredulity  is  uncharitable. 
Nelly  doubtless  had  her  moments  of  remorse ;  and,  though  her 
warmth  in  the  cause  of  Protestantism  may  in  the  first  instance 
have  been  strengthened  by  her  hatred  to  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth,  yet  the  kindly  feeling  avowed  for  her  by  Tenison, 
affords  surely  a  strong  presumption  that  her  faith  was  unshaken 
and  her  repentance  sincere. 

It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  we  know  so  little  of  the 
life  of  Archbishop  Tenison.  He  seems  to  have  risen  into  im- 
portance about  the  year  1680,  when  he  was  recommended  by 
Tillotson  to  the  vacant  living  of  St.  Martin's  in  the  Fields,  in 
London,  then  an  extensive  parish,  where,  as  Baxter  described 
it,  "neighbours  lived  like  Americans,  without  hearing  a  ser- 
mon for  many  years."     Tenison  filled  his  cure  at  St.  Martin's 

*  Secret  Service  Expenses,  p.  167.  f  Evelyn,  19  January,  1685-6. 


HER    LAST    ILLNESS.  II3 

with  SO  much  courage,  toleration,  and  discretion  in  the  worst 
days  of  the  Church,  that  few,  except  the  extreme  partisans  of 
popery,  have  been  found  to  quarrel  with  his  ministry."'  It  was 
as  Vicar  of  St.  Martin's,  in  which  parish  Pall  Mall  is  situated, 
that  he  became  acquainted  with  Nell  Gwyn, — perhaps,  as  I 
suspect  in  the  first  instance,  through  the  instrumentality  of 
Lower,  then  the  most  celebrated  physician  in  London.f  Dr.. 
Lower  was  a  sturdy  Protestant,  and  one,  as  King  James  was 
known  to  observe,  "  that  did  him  more  mischief  than  a  troop  of 
horse.'*  He  was  often  with  Nelly,  and,  as  Kennet  had  heard 
from  Tenison's  own  lips,  *' would  pick  out  of  her  all  the  in- 
trigues of  the  Court  of  King  Charles  IL"  Nor  was  his  faith 
questionable,  evincing  as  he  did  his  regard  for  the  Reformation 
by  the  bequest  of  a  thousand  pounds  to  the  French  and  Irish 
Protestants  in  or  near  London,  f 

But  the  visits  of  Lower  to  Nelly  were  not  for  gossip  only. 
She  was  now  far  from  well,  and  her  complaints  were  put  into 
rhyme  by  the  satirical  pen  of  Sir  George  Etherege.  There 
is,  however,  little  wit  in  this  instance,  and  just  as  little  truth  in 
the  malice  of  the  author  of  "The  Man  of  Mode."  One  line, 
however,  deserves  to  be  recorded: 

Send  Dr.  Burnet  to  me  or  I  die. 

It  was  time  indeed  for  Nelly  to  send  for  some  one.  Burnet 
had  attended  Rochester,  and  Mrs.  Roberts,  and  the  Whig  "  mar- 
tyr," William  Lord  Russell.  Tenison  had  attended  Thynne, 
Sir  Thomas  Armstrong,  and  the  unhappy  Monmouth.  Tenison 
was  sent  for,  and  attended  Nelly. 

She  now  made  her  will,  and  to  the  following  effect :  — 

*  Compare  Burnet  in  his  History  with  Lord  Dartmouth's  Notes,  and  Burnet's  own  account 
of  Tenison  to  King  William  in  Romney's  Diary,  ii.  2S3.  See  also  Evelyn's  Memoirs  for  a 
high  character  of  Tenison.  f  Burnet,  ii,  2S4,  ed.  1823. 

tKennet's  note  in  Wood's  Ath.  Ox.,  ed.  Bliss,  iv.  299. 


114  THE    STORY    OF   NELL    GWYN. 

In  the  name  of  God,  Amen.  I,  Ellen  Gwynne,  of  the  parish  of  St.  Mar- 
tin-in-the-fields,  and  county  of  Middlesex,  spinster,  this  9th  day  of  July,  anno 
Domini  16S7,  do  make  this  my  last  will  and  testament,  and  do  revoke  all 
former  wills.  First,  in  hope  of  a  joyful  resurrection,  I  do  recommend  myself 
whence  I  came,  my  soul  into  the  hands  of  Almighty  God,  and  my  body  unto 
the  earth,  to  be  decently  buried,  at  the  discretion  of  my  executors,  herein- 
after named  ;  and  as  for  all  such  houses,  lands,  tenements,  ofhces,  places, 
pensions,  annuities,  and  hereditaments  whatsoever,  in  England,  Ireland,  or 
elsewhere,  wherein  I,  or  my  heirs,  or  any  to  the  use  of,  or  in  trust  for  me  or 
my  heirs,  hath,  have,  or  may  or  ought  to  have,  any  estate,  right,  claim  or  de- 
mand whatsoever,  of  fee-simple  or  freehold,  I  give  and  devise  the  same  all 
and  wholly  to  my  dear  natural  son,  his  Grace  the  Duke  of  St.  Alban's,  and  to 
the  heirs  of  his  body  ;  and  as  for  all  and  all  manner  of  my  jewels,  plate,  house- 
hold stuff,  goods,  chattels,  credits,  and  other  estate  whatsoever,  I  give  and 
bequeath  the  same,  and  every  part  and  parcel  thereof,  to  my  executors  here- 
after named,  in,  upon,  and  by  way  of  trust  for  my  said  dear  son,  his  executors, 
administrators,  and  assigns,  and  to  and  for  his  and  their  own  sole  use  and 
peculiar  benefit  and  advantage,  in  such  manner  as  is  hereafter  expressed  ;  and 
I  do  hereby  constitute  the  Right  Hon.  Lawrence  Earl  of  Rochester,  the  Right 
Hon.  Thomas  Earl  of  Pembroke,  the  Hon.  Sir  Robert  Sawyer,  Knight,  his 
Majesty's  Attorney  General,  and  the  Hon.  Henr}'  Sidney,  Esq.,  to  be  my 
executors  of  this  my  last  will  and  testament,  desiring  them  to  please  to  accept 
and  undertake  the  execution  hereof,  in  trust  as  afore-mentioned  ;  and  I  do  give 
and  bequeath  to  the  several  persons  in  the  schedule  hereunto  annexed  the 
several  legacies  and  sums  of  money  therein  expressed  or  mentioned  ;  and  my 
further  will  and  mind,  and  anything  above  notwithstanding,  is,  that  if  my  said 
dear  son  happen  to  depart  this  natural  life  without  issue  then  living,  or  such 
issue  die  without  issue,  then  and  in  such  case,  all  and  all  manner  of  my  estate 
above  devised  to  him,  and  in  case  my  said  natural  son  die  before  the  age  of 
one-and-twenty  years,  then  also  all  my  personal  estate  devised  to  my  said 
executors  not  before  then  by  my  said  dear  son  and  his  issue,  and  my  said 
executors,  and  the  executors  or  administrators  of  the  survivor  of  them,  or  by 
some  of  them  otherwise  lawfully  and  firmly  devised  or  disposed  of,  shall 
remain,  go,  or  be  to  my  said  executors,  their  heirs,  executors,  and  adminis- 
trators respectively,  in  trust  of  and  for  answering,  paying,  and  satisfying  all  and 
every  and  all  manners  of  my  gifts,  legacies,  and  directions  that  at  any  time 
hereafter,  during  my  life,  shall  be  by  me  anywise  mentioned  or  given  in  or  by 
any  codicils  or  schedule  to  be  hereto  annexed.  And  lastly,  that  my  said 
executors  shall  have,  all  and  every  of  them,  100/.  a-piece,  of  lawful  money,  in 


HER   WILL   AND    CODICILS.  1 15 

consideration  of  their  care  and  trouble  herein,  and  furthermore,  all  their 
several  and  respective  expenses  and  charges  in  and  about  the  execution  of 
this  my  will.  In  witness  of  all  which,  I  hereunto  set  my  hand  and  seal,  the 
day  and  year  first  above  written.  E.  G. 

Signed,  sealed,  published  and  declared,  in  the  J>resettce  of  us,  who  at  the  same 
time  subscribe  our  names,  also  in  her  presence- 

Lucy  Hamilton  Sandys, 
Edward  Wyborne, 
John  Warner, 
William  Scarborough, 
James  Booth. 

To  this,  three  months  later,  was  added  a  codicil  written  on 
a  separate  sheet  of  paper,  and  called: — 

The  last  request  of  Mrs.  Ellen''  Gwynn  to  his  Grace  the  Duke  of  St.  Alban's, 
made  October  the  iSth,  1687. 

1.  I  desire  I  may  be  buried  in  the  church  of  St.  Martin's-in-the  fields. 

2.  That  Dr.  Tenison  may  preach  my  funeral  sermon. 

3.  That  there  may  be  a  decent  pulpit-cloth  and  cushion  given  to  St. 
Martin's-in-the-fields. 

4.  That  he  [the  Duke]  would  give  one  hundred  pounds  for  the  use  of  the 
poor  of  the  said  St.  Martin's  and  St.  James's,  Westminster,  to  be  given  into 
the  hands  of  the  said  Dr.  Tenison,  to  be  disposed  of  at  his  discretion,  for 
taking  any  poor  debtors  of  the  said  parish  out  of  prison,  and  for  cloaths  this 
winter,  and  other  necessaries,  as  he  shall  find  most  fit. 

5.  That  for  showing  my  charity  to  those  who  differ  from  me  in  religion,  I 
desire  that  fifty  pounds  may  be  put  into  the  hands  of  Dr.  Tenison  and  Mr. 
Warner,  who,  taking  to  them  any  two  persons  of  the  Roman  Religion,  may 
dispose  of  it  for  the  use  of  the  poor  of  that  religion  inhabiting  the  parish  of  St. 
James's  aforesaid. 

6.  That  Mrs.  Rose  Forstcr  may  have  two  hundred  pounds  given  to  her, 
any  time  within  a  year  after  my  decease. 

7.  That  Jo.,  my  porter,  may  have  ten  pounds  given  him. 

My  request  to  his  Grace  is,  further — 

8.  That  my  present  nurses  may  have  ten  pounds  each,  and  mourning,  be- 
sides their  wages  due  to  them. 


1 1 6  THE   STORY   OF   NELL   GWYN. 

9.  That  my  present  servants  may  have  mourning  each,  and  a  year's  wages, 
besides  their  wages  due. 

10.  That  the  Lady  Fairbome  may  have  fifty  pounds  given  to  her  to  buy 
a  ring. 

n.  That  my  kinsman,  Mr.  Cholmley,  may  have  one  hundred  pounds 
given  to  him,  within  a  year  after  this  date. 

12.  That  his  Grace  would  please  to  lay  out  twenty  pounds  yearly  for  the 
releasing  of  poor  debtors  out  of  prison,  every  Christmas-day. 

13.  That  Mr.  John  "Warner  may  have  fifty  pounds  given  him  to  buy 
a  ring. 

14.  That  the  Lady  Hollyman  may  have  the  pension  of  ten  shillings  per 
week  continued  to  her  during  the  said  lady's  life. 

Oct.  18,  -87. — This  request  "was  attested  and  achiowledged,  in  the  presence 

of     USy 

John  Hetherington, 
Hannah  Grace, 
Daniel  Dyer.* 

She  died  of  apoplexy  in  November,  i687,t  in  her  thirty- 
eighth  year,  but  the  exact  day  is  unknown.  "  Her  repentance 
in  her  last  hours,  I  have  been  unquestionably  informed,"  writes 
Gibber,  "appeared  in  all  the  contrite  symptoms  of  a  Christian 
sincerity."  "  She  is  said  to  have  died  piously  and  penitently," 
writes  Wigmore  to  Sir  George  Etherege,  then  Envoy  at  Ratis- 
bon,  **  and,  as  she  dispensed  several  charities  in  her  lifetime,  so 
she  left  several  such  legacies  at  her  death."  %  The  bequest  to 
the  poor  prisoners  may  receive  some  illustration  from  the  satires 
of  the  time.  Her  father  is  said  to  have  died  in  a  prison  at  Ox- 
ford— and  Nelly,  it  is  added,  "gloried"  in  relieving  the  neces- 
sities of  the  poorer  prisoners. 

*The  will  was  proved,  Dec.  7,  at  the  Prerogative  Will  office  in  Doctors'  Commons,  and 
the  original  on  the  iSth  of  February  following  delivered  to  Sir  Robert  Sawyer,  one  of  the 
executors. 

f  Letter  of  22  March,  16S7,  in  Ellis's  Correspondence,  i.  264  :  "  Mrs.  Nelly  is  dying 
of  an  apoplexy." 

:J  Gibber's  Apology,  p.  431,  ed.  1740.  Letter  of  i3  Nov.  1687,  in  Seward's  Anecdotes. 
Her  wealth  in  the  letter  is  stated  at  a  million  ! 


HER    FUNERAL   SERMON.  I  I  7 

On  the  night  of  the  17th  November,  1687,  the  orange  girl 
in  the  playhouse  pit — the  pretty  witty  Nelly  of  Pepys — and  the 
Almahide  of  Dryden's  play  and  King  Charles's  admiration,  was 
buried,  according  to  her  own  request,  in  the  church  of  St. 
Martin's-in-the-Fields.  There  was  no  great  ostentation  on  the 
occasion,  considering  the  style  in  which  funerals  were  then 
usually  conducted;  the  expenses  of  her  interment,  ^375,  were 
advanced  by  Sir  Stephen  Fox,  from  the  next  quarter's  allow- 
ance of  ;f  1500  a  year,  which  King  James  had  settled  upon  her.* 
Good  Dr.  Tenison  too  complied  with  her  request,  and  preached 
her  funeral  sermon  ;  but  what  the  Doctor  said — except  that  he 
said  "much  to  her  praise" — no  one  has  told  us.  The  church 
was  doubtless  crowded — all  the  apprentices  who  could  obtain 
leave  from  their  masters  for  such  a  lesson  were  there,  and  per- 
haps many  a  wet  eye  was  seen, — for  Nelly  was  a  good  subject, 
and  the  then  vicar  of  St.  Martin's  was  an  impressive  preacher. 

It  was  bold  in  Tenison  to  preach  such  a  sermon,  and  on 
such  a  person ;  but  he  knew  the  worth  of  Nelly  and  was  not 
afraid.  He  escaped  not,  however,  without  censure.  Some 
mercenary  people  printed  and  employed  hawkers  to  cry  in  the 
streets  a  sham,  or  largely  transmogrified  discourse  which  the 
vicar  himself  was  obliged  to  denounce  as  a  "  fcrgery."f  Others 
went  further;  and  when  in  1691  the  see  of  Lincoln  was  vacant, 
and  Tenison  was  all  but  appointed  to  it,  Viscount  Villiers,  after- 
wards the  first  Earl  of  Jersey,  in  his  zeal  for  the  rector  of  the 
parish  of  St.  Giles's-in-the-Fields,  immediately  adjoining  St. 
Martin's,  made  it  a  reason  to  Queen  Mary  for  the  exclusion  of 
the  honest  Doctor  that  he  had  preached  "  a  notable  funeral 


*  Secret  Service  Expenses  of  Charles  II.,  and  James  II.,  p.  177. 

f  Advertisement. — Whereas  there  has  been  a  paper  cry'd  by  some  hawkers,  as  a  sermon 
preached  by  D.  T.  at  the  funeral  of  M.  E.  Gwynn,  this  may  certify,  that  that  paper  is  the 
forgery  of  some  mercenary  people. — Mr.  Pulton  considered  by  Tho.  Tenison,  D.D.  4to. 
1687. 


I  1 S  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   GWYN. 

sermon  in  praise  of  Ellen  Gwyn."  But  the  daughter  of  King 
James,  and  the  wife  of  King  William,  who  had  her  own  chan- 
nels of  information,  was  not  to  be  led  aside  from  what  she 
knew  was  right  by  so  weak  a  complaint,  though  advanced  by  a 
highly-favoured  servant  of  her  own.  "  I  have  heard  as  much," 
said  the  good  Queen  Mar}^  to  her  Master  of  the  Horse,  "  and 
this  is  a  sign  that  the  poor  unfortunate  woman  died  penitent ; 
for,  if  I  have  read  a  man's  heart  through  his  looks,  had  she  not 
made  a  truly  pious  end,  the  Doctor  could  never  have  been  in- 
duced to  speak  well  of  her."  ^  I  need  hardly  add  that  Tenison 
obtained  the  see,  and  that  he  lived  to  fill  with  honour  to  him- 
self and  service  to  the  Church  the  more  important  office  of 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  It  may,  however,  be  new  to  some 
that  in  his  own  will  he  strictly  forbids  either  funeral  sermon  or 
oration  at  his  own  interment.  There  is  satire  in  this.  To  have 
praised  even  Tenison  might  by  some  courtier  or  another  have 
been  made  a  barrier  to  the  promotion  of  an  able  and  perhaps 
better  deserving  person. 

The  son  acceded  to  the  dying  requests  of  his  mother  by 
the  followinor  memorandum  beneath  the  codicil : — 

o 

Dec.  5,  1687, — I  doe  consent  that  this  paper  of  request  may  be  made  a 

codicil  to  Mrs.  Gwinn's  will.  c,.,    a •„ 

St.  Alban  s. 

King  James  continued  the  mother's  pension  to  the  son,  and 
in  the  same  month  in  which  his  mother  died  gave  him  the 
colonelcy  of  that  regiment  of  horse  from  which  Lord  Scarsdale 
had  been  dismissed,  for  his  opposition  to  the  well-known  de- 
signs of  King  James,  t 

While  still  young  he  distinguished  himself  at  the  siege  of 

*  Life  of  Tenison,  p.  20.  Lord  Jersey  should  have  recollected  that  the  father  of  his 
own  wife  was  no  less  a  person  than  the  infamous  Will.  Chiffinch. 

•j-  Letter  from  Atterbury,  dated  Covent  Garden,  Dec.  i.  1687.  Nichols's  Atterbury, 
Vol.  i.  p.  I. 


HER    DESCENDANTS.  II9 

Belgrade,  became  in  after-life  a  Knight  of  the  Garter,  and  died 
the  father  of  eight  sons  by  his  wife,  the  high-born  and  wealthy- 
heiress,  Lady  Diana  de  Vere,  a  beauty  included — as  I  have 
already  observed, — in  the  Kneller  collection  at  Hampton  Court 
He  died  intestate  in  1726.  His  widow  survived  till  1742. 
The  title  still  exists — and  has  been  in  our  own  time  rather 
conspicuously  before  the  public  from  the  enormous  wealth  of 
the  late  Harriet,  Duchess  of  St.  Alban's,  widow  of  Coutts  the 
banker,  but  originally  known,  and  favourably  too,  upon  the 
comic  boards.  Not  unlike  in  many  points  were  Eleanor  Gwyn 
and  Harriet  Mellon.  The  fathers  of  both  were  in  the  army, 
and  both  never  knew  what  it  was  to  have  a  father.  Both 
rose  by  the  stage, — both  had  wealthy  admirers — and  both 
were  charitable  and  generous.  Here,  however,  the  parallel 
ceases.  Harriet  was  no  wit,  —  nor,  with  all  respect  for  Mr. 
Coutts's  taste,  can  we  well  believe  that  she  ever  had  been 
a  beauty. 

There  are  many  portraits  of  Nell  Gwyn — few  heads  of 
her  time  make  a  more  profitable  traffic  among  dealers.  Yet 
very  few  are  genuine.  She  sat  to  Lely,  to  Cooper,  and  to 
Gascar.  An  "  unfinished "  portrait  of  her  was  sold  at  Sir 
Peter  Leiy's  sale  to  Hugh  May,  for  ;^2  5.'''*  No.  306  of  King 
James  II. 's  pictures  was  "Madam  Gwyn's  picture,  naked,  with 
a  Cupid,"  done  by  Lely,  and  concealed  by  a  "sliding  piece,"  a 
copy  by  Danckers  of  the  Countess  of  Dorset,  by  Van  Dyck.f 
Among  the  pictures  "of  Mr.  Leiy's  doing"  which  Mrs.  Beale, 
the  painter,  saw  at  Bap.  May's  lodgings  at  Whitehall,  in  April 
1677,  was  "Mrs.  Gwyn,  with  a  lamb,  half-length."  J  "Some 
years  since,"  says  Tom  Davies,  writing  in  1784,  "  I  saw  at  Mr. 


*  Accounts  of  Roger  North,  the  executor  of  Lely.     Addit.  MS.  in  Brit.  Mus.  16,174. 
f  Harl.  MS.  1890,  compare  Walpole's  edit.  Dallaway,  iii.  58.     There  is  a  unique  print 
of  this  in  the  Bumey  Collection  in  the  British  Museum, 
f  Walpole  by  Dallaway,  iii.  140. 


I20  THE    STORY    OF   NELL   G\VYN. 

Berenger's  house  in  the  Mews  a  picture  of  Nell  Gwyn,  said 
to  have  been  drawn  by  Sir  Peter  Lely ;  she  appeared  to  have 
been  extremely  attractive."  * 

With  the  single  exception  of  a  too  grave  and  thoughtful 
picture  in  the  Lely  room  at  Hampton  Court,  there  is  not  a 
single  picture  of  Nelly  in  any  of  the  royal  collections.  When 
Queen  Charlotte  was  asked  whether  she  recollected  a  famous 
picture  of  Nell  Gwyn,  known  to  have  existed  in  the  Windsor 
galler}%  and  which  Her  Majesty  herself  was  suspected  of  having 
removed,  she  replied  at  once  "that  most  assuredly  since  she 
had  resided  at  Windsor  there  had  been  no  Nell  Gwyn  there."  f 

A  full-length  portrait  of  her,  in  a  yellow  and  blue  dress, 
and  black-brown  hair,  fetched  at  the  Stowe  sale  loo  guineas, 
and  has  been  engraved.  At  Goodwood  is  a  full-length  of  her, 
neither  clever  nor  like.  Other  portraits  of  her  are  to  be  seen 
at  Elvaston,  (Lord  Harrington's) ;  at  Althorp,  (Lord  Spen- 
cer's) ;  at  Welbeck,  (the  Duke  of  Portland's),  in  water  colours, 
with  her  two  children  ;  at  Sudbury,  (Lord  Vernon's) ;  and  at 
Oakley  Grove,  Cirencester,  (Lord  Bathurst's).  That  curious 
inquirer  Sir  William  Musgrave  had  seen  portraits  of  her  at 
Smeton  and  at  Lord  Portmore's  at  Weybridge.  At  the  Gar- 
rick  Club  is  a  namby-pamby  and  pretty  small  portrait  called 
Nell  Gwyn,  but  surely  not  Nelly.  Marshall  Grosvenor  had 
the  fine  portrait  with  the  lamb,  once  belonging  to  the  St. 
Alban's  family,  and  since  so  finely  engraved  for  Mrs.  Jameson's 
Beauties.  "The  turn  of  the  neck,"  says  Mrs.  Jameson,  "and 
the  air  of  the  head,  are  full  of  grace  and  character,  and  the 
whole  picture,  though  a  little  injured  by  time,  is  exquisitely 
painted."  A  duplicate  of  this  is  at  Goodrich  Court — one  of 
the  acquisitions  of  Sir  Samuel  Meyrick — the  petticoat  is  of  a 
pink  or  carmine  colour.      The    portrait    at    Drayton    Manor, 

*  Davies's  Dramatic  Miscellanies,  iii.  269. 

f  Mrs.  Jameson's  Preface  to  Beauties  of  the  Court  of  King  Giarles  II. 


RELICS    OF   NELLY.  121 

bought  by  the  late  Sir  Robert  Peel,  is  also  the  same  as  the 
Grosvenor  picture,  except  that  the  lamb  is  omitted.*  At  Mr. 
Bernal's,  in  Eaton  Square,  is  a  clever  copy  of  the  time,  after 
Lely ;  and  among  the  miniatures  of  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch  is 
her  head  by  Cooper,  for  which  it  is  said  the  Exchequer  papers 
record  the  price  paid  to  that  painter. 

Of  the  early  engravings  from  her  portraits,  the  best  are  by 
Gerard  Valck,  the  brother-in-law  of  Blooteling.  Valck  was  a 
contemporary  of  Nell  Gwyn,  and  fine  impressions  of  his  Lely 
engraving  realise  high  prices ;  but  the  print  of  her  which  col- 
lectors are  most  curious  about  is  that  after  Gascar,  evidently 
engraved  abroad, — it  is  thought  by  Masson,  in  which  she  is 
represented  covered  by  the  famous  laced  chemise,  lying  on  a 
bed  of  roses,  from  which  her  two  children,  as  Cupids,  are  with- 
drawing the  curtains — King  Charles  II.  in  the  distance.  She 
wears  as  well  the  famous  Rupert  necklace  of  pearls.  The 
Stowe  impression — the  last  sold — brought  eight  guineas.  The 
Burney  copy,  now  in  the  British  Museum,  cost  Dr.  Burney  at 
Sir  Egerton  Brydges's  sale  £2,^  i^s.  In  all  her  pictures  we 
have  what  Ben  Jonson  so  much  admires — 

Hair  loosely  flowing,  robes  as  free. 

But  few — the  Lely  with  the  lamb  excepted — render  justice  to 
those  charms  of  face  and  figure  which  her  contemporaries  loved 
to  admire,  and  which  Lely  alone  had  the  skill  to  transfer  even 
in  part  to  canvas,  f 

Relics  of  Nelly  are  of  rare  occurrence.  A  warming-pan 
said  to  have  been  in  her  possession  with,  for  motto,  the  slightly 
modified  text,  "Fear  God  and  serve  the  King,"  was  in  exist- 

*  Mrs.  Jameson's  Private  Picture  Galleries,  p.  375. 

\  For  her  bust  or  effigy  at  Bag^iigge  Wells  see  Waldron's  ed.  of  Downes,  p.  16,  and 
Gent.  Mag.  for  June,  1835,  p.  562.  I  do  not  believe  in  the  straight-armed  portrait  engraved 
by  Van  Bleeck  and  now  in  Mr.  Bernal's  possession. 


122  THE    STORY   OF   NELL   GWYN. 

ence  at  the  close  of  the  last  centur}'.  A  looking-glass  of  great 
elegance  of  form,  and  with  a  handsomely  carved  frame  with 
figures,  lately,  if  not  still,  in  the  collection  of  Sir  Page  Dicks  of 
Port  Hall,  is  said  on  good  authority  to  have  belonged  to  her. 
The  bills  of  her  household  and  other  expenses,  from  which  I 
have  derived  some  particulars,  are  characteristic  memorials  of 
her  in  another  way.  Till  the  recent  sale  of  the  mutilated  Ex- 
chequer papers  her  autograph  was  not  known  to  exist.  She 
could  not  sign  her  name,  and  was  content  with  an  E.  G. — 
many  with  better  opportunities  could  do  no  more — dotted  at 
the  commencement  and  termination  of  each  letter,  as  if  she  was 
at  a  loss  where  to  begin  and  how  to  leave  off.  Not  more  than 
ten  or  twelve  of  her  signatures  are  known,  and  these  when 
they  have  occurred  for  sale  have  sold  at  prices  varying  from 
two  guineas  and  a  half  to  three  guineas  each. 

On  looking  back  at  what  I  have  written  of  this  Story,  I  see 
little  to  omit  or  add — unless  I  wander  into  the  satires  of  the 
time,  and  poison  my  pages  with  the  gross  libels  of  an  age  of 
lampoons.  Not  to  have  occasioned  one  satire  or  even  more, 
would  have  been  to  say  little  for  the  reputation  (of  any  kind) 
of  a  lady  who  lived  within  the  atmosphere  of  Whitehall.  Like 
her — 

Who  miss'd  her  name  in  a  lampoon. 
And  sigh'd — to  find  herself  decay'd  so  soon — 

Nelly  did  not  escape,  and,  though  the  subject  of  some  very 
gross  satires,  she  had  this  consolation,  if  she  heeded  them  at 
all,  that  there  were  others  who  fared  still  worse,  and  perhaps 
deserved  better.*  Yet  it  would  be  wrong  to  close  any  sketch 
of  her  life  without  mentioning  the  present  of  the  large  Bible 
which  she  made  to  Oliver  Cromwell's  porter,  when  a  prisoner 

*  Wycherley  has  "  A  Song  :  upon  a  vain  foolish  Coxcomb,  who  was  banish'd  the  Court, 
for  owning  a  witty  Libel  written  by  another." — Poem:,  1704,  p.  319. 


ANECDOTES.  1 23 

in  Bedlam, — often  referred  to  by  the  writers  of  her  age ;  *  her 
paying  the  debt  of  a  worthy  clergyman  whom,  as  she  was  going 
through  the  city,  she  saw  bailiffs  hurrying  to  prison ;  or  her 
present  to  Pat  O'Bryan,  so  characteristically  related  in  the  fol- 
lowing quotation : — 

"Afterwards  Pat  O'Bryan,  scorning  to  rob  on  foot,  he  would  become  an 
absolute  highway-man,  by  robbing  on  horseback.  The  first  prey  he  met  was 
Nell  Gwyn  ;  and  stopping  her  coach  on  the  road  to  Winchester,  quoth  he, 
*  Madam,  I  am,  by  my  salvashion,  a  fery  good  shentleman,  and  near  relation 
to  his  Majesty's  Crash  the  Duke  of  Ormond  ;  but  being  in  want  of  money,  and 

knowing  you  to  be  a  sharitable  w ,  I  hope  you  will  give  me  shomething 

after  I've  took  all  you  have  away.'  Honest  Nell,  seeing  the  simplicity  of  the 
fellow,  and  laughing  heartily  at  his  bull,  gave  him  ten  guineas,  with  which 
Teague  rid  away,  without  doing  any  further  damage."  f 

Anecdotes  of  this  sort,  though  perhaps  only  coloured  with 
truth,  are  not  to  be  made  light  of  by  biographers.  They  show 
the  general  appreciation  at  the  time  of  the  individuals  to  whom 
they  relate.  There  is  not  a  story  told  of  Nelly  in  the  common- 
est chap  book  or  jest  book,  published  while  her  memory  was 
yet  fresh  among  the  children  to  whose  fathers  and  mothers  she 
was  known,  but  what  evinces  cither  harmless  humour  or  a 
sympathising  heart.  No  wonder,  then,  that  there  is  still  an 
odd  fascination  about  her  name,  and  that  Granger's  sentence 
"  Whatever  she  did  became  her " — is  at  least  as  worthy  of 
credit  as  Burnet's  in  callinqf  her  "the  indiscreetest  and  wildest 
creature  that  ever  was  in  a  court."! 

The  true  apology  for  this  Story  and  for  Nell  Gwyn  is  to  be 
found  in  Gibber's  defence  of  his  own  conduct,  where,  when 
speaking  of  Nelly,  he  observes  :  "  If  the  common  fame  of  her 
may  be  believed,  which  in  my  memory  was  not  doubted,  she 

♦Granger,  iv.  210  and  iSS.  "Like  Oliver's  porter,  but  not  so  devout,"  is  a  line  in 
D'Urfey's  Prologue  to  Sir  Barnaby  Wliigg,  i6Si. 

f  Capt.  Alexander  Smith's  Lives  of  Highwaymen,  London,  1719,  vol.  i.  p.  260. 
t  Burnet,  i.  457,  ed.  1823. 


124  THE    STORY    OF   NELL    GWYN. 

had  less  to  be  laid  to  her  charge  than  any  other  of  those  ladies 
who  were  in  the  same  state  of  preferment.  She  never  meddled 
in  matters  of  any  serious  moment,  or  was  the  tool  of  working 
poHticians.  Never  broke  into  those  amorous  infidelities  which 
others  are  accused  of;  but  was  as  visibly  distinguished  by  her 
particular  personal  inclination  for  the  king  as  her  rivals  were 
by  their  titles  and  grandeur."  * 

Another,  if  another  is  wanting,  may  be  found  in  a  far  graver 
author,  Sir  Thomas  More.  "I  doubt  not," — says  that  great 
and  good  man, — "that  some  shall  think  this  woman  (he  is 
writing  of  Jane  Shore)  too  slight  a  thing  to  be  written  of  and 
set  among  the  remembrances  of  great  matters  ;  but  meseemeth" 
he  adds,  "the  chance  worthy  to  be  remembered — for,  where 
the  King  took  displeasure  she  would  mitigate  and  appease  his 
mind ;  where  men  were  out  of  favour  she  would  bring  them  in 
his  grace;  for  many  that  had  highly  offended  she  obtained  par- 
don ;  of  great  forfeitures  she  gat  men  remission ;  and  finally,  in 
many  weighty  suits  she  stood  more  in  great  stead." — Wise  and 
virtuous  Thomas  IMore, — pious  and  manly  Thomas  Tenison, 
— pretty  and  witty — and  surely  with  much  that  was  good  in 
her — Eleanor  Gwyn.  f 

•Gibber's  Apolog;}-,  p.  450,  ed.  1740. 

Kote. — I  have  great  pleasure  in  extracting  the  following  defence  of  Nelly  from  the 
preface  to  Douglas  Jerrold's  drama  of  "  Nell  Gvsyn,  or  the  Prologue,"  a  capitally  constructed 
piece,  and  one  true  throughout  to  its  heroine  and  the  manners  of  the  age  in  which  Nelly 
lived  : — "  ^^'hil5t  we  may  safely  reject  as  unfounded  gossip  many  of  the  stories  associated 
with  the  name  of  Nell  Gwyn,  wc  cannot  refuse  belief  to  the  various  proofs  of  kind- 
heartedness,  liberality,  and — taking  into  consideration  her  subsequent  power  to  do  harm — 
absolute  goodness  of  a  woman  mingling  (if  wc  may  believe  a  passage  in  Pepys)  from  her 
earliest  years  in  the  most  depraved  scenes  of  a  most  dissolute  age.  The  life  of  Nell  Gwyn, 
from  the  time  of  her  connexion  with  Charles  II.  to  that  of  her  death,  proved  that  error  had 
been  forced  upon  her  by  circumstances,  rather  than  indulged  from  choice.  It  was  under 
this  impression  that  the  present  little  comedy  was  undertaken  :  under  this  conviction  an 
attempt  has  been  made  to  show  some  glimpses  of  the  *  silver  lining '  of  a  character,  to  whose 
influence  over  an  unprincipled  voluptuary  we  owe  a  national  asylum  for  veteran  soldiers,  and 
whose  brightness  shines  with  the  most  amiable  lustre  in  many  actions  of  her  life,  and  in  the 
last  disp>osal  of  her  worldly  effects." 


APPENDIX. 


A. 

ON   THE   CHRONOLOGY    OF    THE   ENGLISH   PORTION   OF   DE   GRAMMONT's 

MEMOIRS. 

"  Every  thing  has  its  place,"  was  Walpole's  remark  to  Pinker- 
ton.  "  Lord  Hailes,  who  is  very  accurate  himself,  observed  to 
me  that  the  chronology  of  the  Memoirs  de  Graminont  is  not 
exact.  What  has  that  book  to  do  with  chronology  ?  " '"'  ]\Ir. 
Hallam  has  said  something  very  similar  to  this,  "The  Memoirs 
of  Grammoiit,  by  Anthony  Hamilton,  scarcely  challenge  a  place 
as  historical.  Every  one  is  aware  of  the  peculiar  felicity  and 
fascinating  gaiety  which  they  display."  f 

Differing  (unwillingly)  from  Walpole  and  Hallam  in  the 
value  they  would  appear  to  attach  to  chronological  exactness, 
in  works  like  De  Grammont,  and  deeming  chronology  cer- 
tainly of  some,  though  of  minor  importance,  let  us  see  what 
can  be  done  in  reducinof  the  facts  into  an  historical  order  of 
time.  I  shall  confine  what  I  have  to  say  to  the  English  por- 
tion of  the  work — \iy>,  far  the  largest  part  of  the  book,  and 
unquestionably  the  most  important.  The  author,  it  must  be 
observed,  sets  out  by  informing  us  that  he  has  no  intention  of 
observinof  chronolosfical  exactness  : — 

"  I  farther  declare,  that  order  of  the  time  and  disposition  of  the  facts, 
which  give  more  trouble  to  the  writer  than  pleasure  to  the  reader,  shall  not 

♦Walpoliana,  vol.  ii.  p,  31.  f  Hallam,  Hist,  of  Lit.,  vol.  iv.  p.  604. 


I  26  •  APPENDIX. 

much  embarrass  me  in  these  Memoirs.  It  being  my  design  to  convey  a  just 
idea  of  my  hero,  those  circumstances  which  most  tend  to  illustrate  and  dis- 
tinguish his  character,  shall  find  a  place  in  these  fragments  just  as  they  present 
themselves  to  the  imagination,  without  paying  any  particular  attention  to  their 
arrangement.  For  after  all,  what  does  it  signify  where  the  portrait  is  begun, 
provided  the  assemblage  of  parts  form  a  whole,  which  expresses  the  original?" 

This  is  all  very  excellent;  but  readers  like  myself  have 
been  lone  accustomed  to  invest  these  entertaining  Memoirs 
with  something  of  the  character  of  history ;  and  if  we  can  show, 
in  spite  of  a  few  chronological  excesses,  that  the  events  in  the 
book  may  be  brought  within  a  very  short  compass  of  years — 
seven  at  the  most — that  their  accuracy  may  be  supported,  if 
not  by  a  "  cloud  of  witnesses,"  by  the  unquestionable  evidences 
of  one  or  more  admitted  authorities ;  surely  the  book  must  rise 
in  value,  and  even  in  the  interest  which  it  gives  the  reader: 
for,  take  it  up  in  what  sense  we  will,  as  an  episode  in  History,  or 
as  a  book  somewhat  akin  to  Kenil'wo7^th  or  Ivanhoe,  the  nearer 
it  approaches  to  truth  it  becomes  invested  with  additional  in- 
terest, and  may  be  made  to  take  its  place  either  on  the  shelf 
of  history  or  the  shelf  of  fiction,  as  the  fancy  or  the  inclination 
of  the  reader  may  choose  to  place  it. 

Sir  William  Musgrave,  the  great  print-collector,  had  paid 
considerable  attention  to  the  chronology  of  the  De  Grammont 
Memoirs.  "  From  many  circumstances,"  he  says,  "  the  events 
mentioned  in  these  Memoirs  appear  to  have  happened  between 
the  years  1663  and  1665."  But  this  is  evidently  too  restricted; 
and  I  shall  now  endeavour  to  show  that  the  several  events  may, 
with  very  few  exceptions,  be  confined  to  the  period  of  De 
Grammont's  residence  in  England,  from  May  1662  to  October 
1669. 

The  author  has  divided  his  work  into  e/eveji  very  unequal 
chapters.  The  first  five  relate  only  Continental  adventures; 
and  the  last  six,  by  far  the  largest  part  of  the  work,  are  con- 


DE   GRAMMONTS    MEMOIRS.  1 27 

fined  to  the  Count's  adventures  and  amours  in  the  court  of 
Charles  II.  The  author  is  very  particular,  it  will  be  seen,  in 
the  period  of  the  Count's  arrival.  "  The  Chevalier  de  Gram- 
mont  arrived  about  two  years  after  the  Restoration."  .... 
"  It  was  in  the  height  of  the  rejoicings  they  were  making  for 
this  new  queen  [Catherine  of  Braganza]  that  the  Chevalier  de 
Grammont  arrived,  to  contribute  to  its  magnificence  and  diver- 
sions." Now  Catherine  landed  at  Portsmouth  on  the  14th 
May,  1662,  and  on  the  21st  of  the  same  month  was  married  at 
Portsmouth  to  King  Charles  II.  On  the  29th,  the  bridegroom 
and  bride  arrived  at  Hampton  Court;  and  on  the  2nd  June  the 
lord-mayor  and  aldermen  made  their  addresses  to  the  queen  at 
Whitehall,  "and  did  present  her  with  a  gold  cup,  ;^iooo  in 
gold  therein."  The  court  therefore  arrived  in  London  about 
June  or  July,  1662. 

The  event  of  the  Count's  arrival  is  related  in  Chapter  VI., 
the  earliest  English  chapter  of  the  book ;  and  the  only  other 
occurrence  mentioned  in  the  same  division,  is  the  duel  between 
young  Harry  Jermyn  and  Giles  Rawlins.  This  was  in  August 
1662,  Pepys  describing  the  duel  under  the  19th  of  that  moiith 
and  year. 

Chapter  VII.,  like  Chapter  VI.,  has  only  two  events  to  attract 
the  chronological  student — the  splendid  masquerade  given  by 
the  queen,  at  which  Lady  Muskerry  appeared  in  the  Babylonian 
dress;  and  the  period  "when  the  queen  was  given  over  by  her 
physicians."  Editors  hitherto  have  only  helped  us  to  the  latter 
of  the  two  events;  but  the  former  is  of  far  more  importance. 
A  masquerade  at  court  was  too  great  an  occurrence  to  escape 
either  Evelyn  or  Pepys. 

"  2  Feb.  1664-5. — I  saw  a  masq  perform'd  at  Court  by  6  gentlemen  and  6 
ladies,  surprising  his  Ma'^,  it  being  Candlemas-day." — Evelyn. 

^^  Z  Feb.  1664-5. — Mrs.  Pickering  did  at  my  Lady  Sandwich's  command 
tell  me  the  manner  of  a  masquerade  before  the  king  and  court  the  other  day. 


128  APPENDIX. 

Where  six  women  (my  Lady  Castlemaine  and  Duchess  of  Monmouth  being 
two  of  them),  and  six  men  (the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  and  Lord  Avon,  and 
Monsieur  Blanfort,  being  three  of  them)  in  vizards,  but  most  rich  and  antique 
dresses,  did  dance  admirably  and  most  gloriously." — Pep  vs. 

The  queen  was  given  over  by  the  physicians  in  October 
1663,  when  she  was  so  ill  that  her  head  was  shaved,  and 
pigeons  put  to  her  feet. 

The  events  in  Chapter  VIII.,  to  which  in  this  investigation 
it  is  necessary  to  allude,  are,  first,  the  audience  of  the  Musco- 
vite ambassadors;  second,  the  period  when  Lady  Chesterfield 
was  packed  from  Whitehall  to  Bretby  in  Derbyshire ;  third, 
the  period  when  Margaret  Brook  was  married  to  Sir  John 
Denham.  "The  Earl  of  Chesterfield  was  informed,"  says 
Hamilton,  "that  he  was  to  attend  the  Queen  at  an  audience 
she  gave  to  seven  or  eight  Muscovite  ambassadors."  Now 
when  was  this  ?  Let  us  see  what  Pepys  and  Evelyn  can  do 
for  us  in  this  emergency  : — 

"29  Dec,  1662. — Saw  the  audience  of  the  Muscovite  Ambass  which  was 
with  extraordinary  state,  his  retinue  being  numerous,  all  clad  in  vests  of 
several  colours,  with  buskins  after  y'  Eastern  manners :  their  caps  of  fun ; 
tunicks  richly  embrodred  with  gold  and  pearls  made  a  glorious  show." — 
Evelyn. 

"  5  Jany.  1662-3. — To  the  King's  Chamber,  whither  by  and  by  the  Rus- 
sian Ambassadors  come." — Pepys. 

The  arrival  of  the  Muscovite  ambassadors,  though  not  the 
particular  audience,  thus  satisfactorily  settled,  the  next  event  in 
the  same  chapter  is  the  period  when  the  Countess  of  Chester- 
field (the  heroine  of  the  Afc7Jioirs)  was  sent  into  the  country  by 
her  jealous-pated  husband,  as  the  wits  and  gallants  of  the  court 
chose  to  call  a  courageous  earl,  unwilling  to  wink  at  the  dis- 
honour of  his  wife.  The  cause  of  the  Countess  of  Chester- 
field's retirement  was  her  open  and  very  indiscreet  conduct 
with  the  Duke  of  York. 


DE    GRAMMONTS    MEMOIRS.  1 29 

"  3  Nov.  1662. — He  [Pierce]  tells  me  how  the  Duke  of  York  is  smitten  in 
love  with  my  Lady  Chesterfield  ;  and  so  much  that  the  Duchess  of  York  hath 
complained  to  the  King  and  her  father  about  it,  and  my  Lady  Chesterfie^  \  is 
gone  into  the  country  for  it." — Pepys. 

This  was,  perhaps,  only  a  temporary  banishment;  for  if 
Hamilton's  narrative  is  correct,  and  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt 
its  accuracy  in  this  matter,  she  was  certainly  in  town  when  the 
Muscovite  ambassador  had  his  audience  of  the  queen,  nearly 
two  months  after  the  period  assigned  by  Pepys.  But  this  was 
too  interesting  an  event  to  be  concise  upon.  Pepys  has  more 
to  say : — 

"19  Jany.  1662-3. — This  day,  by  Dr.  Clarke,  I  was  told  the  occasion  of 
my  Lord  Chesterfield's  going  and  taking  his  lady  (my  Lord  Ormond's  daugh- 
ter) from  court.  It  seems  he  not  only  hath  been  long  jealous  of  the  Duke  of 
York,  but  did  find  them  two  talking  together,  though  there  were  others  in  the 
room,  and  the  lady  by  all  opinions  a  most  good  virtuous  woman.  He  the 
next  day  (of  which  the  Duke  was  warned  by  somebody  that  saw  the  passion 
my  Lord  Chesterfield  was  in  the  night  before)  went  and  told  the  Duke  how 
much  he  did  apprehend  himself  wronged,  in  his  picking  out  his  lady  of  the 
whole  court  to  be  the  subject  of  his  dishonour  ;  which  the  Duke  did  answer 
with  great  calmnesse,  not  seeming  to  understand  the  reason  of  complaint,  and 
that  was  all  that  passed  ;  but  my  lord  did  presently  pack  his  lady  into  the 
country  in  Derbyshire  near  the  Peake ;  which  is  become  a  proverb  at  court, 
to  send  a  man's  wife  to  the  Peake  when  she  vexes  him." — Pepys. 

It  appears  from  the  books  of  the  Lord  Steward's  office,  to 
which  I  have  had  access,  that  Lord  Chesterfield  set  out  for  the 
country  on  the  12th  May,  1663  ;  and  from  his  "  Short  Notes," 
referred  to  in  the  Mc7noirs  before  his  Correspondence,  that  he 
remained  at  Bretby  in  Derbyshire  with  his  wife  throughout  the 
summer  of  that  year. 

None  of  the  biographers  of  Sir  John  Denham  tell  us  when 
his  second  marriage  took  place.  But  we  must  not  look  to 
printed  books  for  every  kind  of  information.  We  must  extend 
our  inquiries  further,  and  may  sometimes  do  so  with  success. 


130  APPENDIX. 

Denham's  marriage  to  Margaret  Brook  is  recorded  in  the 
register  of  Westminster  Abbey,  under  the  25th  of  May,  1665. 
Poor  Miss  Brook !  She  was  cold  in  her  grave,  hke  Lady 
Chesterfield,  before  De  Grammont  had  married  Miss  Hamilton, 
or  the  period  I  am  seeking  to  assign  to  these  Me?7ioirs  had 
well-niofh  closed. 

The  death  of  Lady  Denham,  mentioned  in  Chapter  IX., 
took  place  6th  January,  1666-7:*  still  within  the  limit  I  have 
named. 

The  same  chapter  contains  Miss  Hobart's  celebrated  sketch 
of  the  principal  persons  at  court :  "  to  the  best,"  she  says,  "of 
my  knowledge,  without  injury  to  any  one,  for  I  abominate  the 
trade  of  scandal."  Of  Aubrey  de  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford,  Miss 
Hobart  observes — she  is  addressing  Miss  Temple : — 

*  Hamilton  accuses  the  poet  of  making  away  with  his  wife.  ' '  The  precedent  of  Lord 
Chesterfield  was  not,"  he  says,  "  sufficiently  bitter  for  the  revenge  he  meditated  ;  besides, 
he  had  no  country-house  to  which  he  could  carry  his  unfortunate  vafe.  This  being  the  case, 
the  old  villain  made  her  travel  a  much  longer  journey  without  stirring  out  of  London." 
Pepys  mentions  her  death  : — 

"  7  Jany.  1666-7. — Lord  Brouncker  tells  me  that  my  Lady  Denham  is  at  last  dead. 
Some  suspect  her  poisoned,  but  it  will  be  best  known  when  her  body  is  opened  to-day,  she 
dying  yesterday  morning.  The  Duke  of  York  is  troubled  for  her,  but  hath  declared  he  will 
never  have  another  public  mistress  again,  which  I  shall  be  glad  of,  and  would  the  King 
would  do  the  like." — Pepys. 

The  lampoons  of  the  day,  some  of  which  are  to  be  found  in  Andrew  MarN'ell's  works, 
more  than  insinuated  that  she  was  deprived  of  life  by  a  mixture  infused  into  some  chocolate. 
She  "  was  poisoned,"  says  Aubrey,  "  by  the  hands  of  the  co.  of  Roc.  with  chocolatte."  *  I 
cannot  imagine  for  a  moment  to  whom  Aubrey  alludes  ;  not  the  Countess  of  Rochester, 
surely,  for  there  was  no  Countess  of  Rochester  at  the  time.  A  Key  to  Count  Grammont's 
Memoirs  (8vo,  1 71 5)  says  that  "  the  Duchess  of  York  was  strongly  suspected  of  ha\-ing  poi- 
soned her  with  powder  of  diamonds."  But  the  question  is,  was  she  poisoned?  Her  body 
was  opened,  and  at  her  own  desire,  but  no  sign  of  poison  found.  This  curious  piece  of 
information,  hitherto  overlooked  by  all  who  have  written  on  the  subject,  is  contained  in  a 
letter  from  Lord  Orrery  to  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  dated  Charleville,  January  25,  1666-7. 
His  Lordship's  words  arc,  "  My  Lady  Denham's  body,  at  her  own  desire,  was  opened, 
but  no  sign  of  poison  found."  f 

•  Letters,  &c.  vol.  ii.  p.  319.  t  Orrery  State  Papers,  fol.  1742,  p.  219. 


DE    GRAMMONTS    MEMOIRS.  I3I 

"  The  Earl  of  Oxford  fell  in  love  with  a  handsome,  graceful  actress,  be- 
longing to  the  Duke's  Theatre,  who  performed  to  perfection,  particularly  the 
part  of  Roxana,  in  a  very  fashionable  new  play,  insomuch  that  she  ever  after 
retained  that  name.  This  creature  being  both  very  virtuous  and  very  modest, 
or,  if  you  please,  wonderfully  obstinate,  proudly  rejected  the  addresses  and 
presents  of  the  Earl  of  Oxford.  This  resistance  inflamed  his  passion  ;  he  had 
recourse  to  invectives,  and  even  to  spells,  but  all  in  vain.  This  disappointment 
had  such  effect  upon  him,  that  he  could  neither  eat  nor  drink  ;  this  did  not 
signify  to  him  ;  but  his  passion  at  length  became  so  violent,  that  he  could  not 
neither  play  nor  smoke.  In  this  extremity.  Love  had  recourse  to  Hymen.  The 
Earl  of  Oxford,  one  of  the  first  peers  of  the  realm,  is,  you  know,  a  very  hand- 
some man  ;  he  is  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter,  which  greatly  adds  to  an  air  natu- 
rally noble.  In  short,  from  his  outward  appearance  you  would  suppose  he  was 
really  possessed  of  some  sense  ;  but  as  soon  as  ever  you  hear  him  speak,  you 
are  perfectly  convinced  of  the  contrary.  This  passionate  lover  presented  her 
with  a  promise  of  marriage,  in  due  form,  signed  with  his  own  hand  ;  she  would 
not,  however,  rely  upon  this,  but  the  next  day  she  thought  there  would  be  no 
danger,  when  the  earl  himself  came  to  her  lodgings  attended  by  a  clergyman, 
and  another  man  for  a  witness.  The  marriage  was  accordingly  solemnised  with 
all  due  ceremonies,  in  the  presence  of  one  of  her  fellow-players,  who  attended 
as  a  witness  on  her  part.  You  will  suppose,  perhaps,  that  the  new  countess 
had  nothing  to  do  but  appear  at  court  according  to  her  rank,  and  to  display 
the  earl's  arms  upon  her  carriage.  This  was  far  from  being  the  case.  When 
examination  was  made  concerning  the  marriage,  it  was  found  to  be  a  mere 
deception  :  it  appeared  that  the  pretended  priest  was  one  of  my  lord's  trum- 
peters, and  the  witness  his  kettle-drummer.  The  parson  and  his  companion 
never  appeared  after  the  ceremony  was  over  ;  and  as  for  the  other  witnesses, 
they  endeavoured  to  persuade  her  that  the  Sultana  Roxana  might  have  sup- 
posed, in  some  part  or  other  of  a  play,  that  she  was  really  married.  It  was  all 
to  no  purpose  that  the  poor  creature  claimed  the  protection  of  the  laws  of 
God  and  man,  both  which  were  violated  and  abused,  as  well  as  herself,  by  this 
infamous  imposition.  In  vain  did  she  throw  herself  at  the  king's  feet  to 
demand  justice  :  she  had  only  to  rise  up  again  without  redress ;  and  happy 
might  she  think  herself  to  receive  an  annuity  of  1000  crowns,  and  to  resume 
the  name  of  Roxana,  instead  of  Countess  of  Oxford." 

Here  is  a  good  deal  of  confusion,  to  which  further  confusion 
has  been  added  by  the  annotators.  Roxana  is  a  character  in 
Lee's  Rival  Queens ;  but  the  Rival  Queens  was  brought  out  at 


132 


APPENDIX. 


the  King's  Theatre,  not  the  Duke's ;  and  the  actress  seduced 
by  the  Earl  of  Oxford  belonged,  Hamilton  tells  us,  to  the 
Duke's  Theatre.  We  are  assured  by  the  annotators,  that  the 
actress  thus  seduced  was  Mrs.  Marshall,  who  acted  Roxana  in 
Lee's  Rival  Queens  ;  but  Malone  had  disposed  of  this  belief  in 
a  note  to  one  of  Dryden's  Letters  ;  and  it  is  very  curious  how 
Scott,  who  had  Malone's  edition  of  Dryden  pretty  well  by 
heart,  should  have  missed  it  when  he  was  seeing  his  edition 
of  De  Grammont  through  the  press.  After  disposing  of  Mrs. 
Marshall's  claim,  Malone  makes  a  very  near  guess  when  he 
names  Mrs.  Frances  Davenport  instead : — 

"The  person  seduced  probably  was  Mrs.  Frances  Davenport,  an  eminent 
actress  in  the  Duke  of  York's  company,  who  was  celebrated  for  her  perform- 
ance of  Roxolana  in  Davenant's  Siege  of  Rhodes,  1662,  and  in  another  Roxo- 
lana  in  Lord  Orrery's  Mustapha  in  1665.  She  acted  in  Dryden's  Maiden 
Queen  in  1668,  but  her  name  is  not  found  in  any  of  the  plays  performed  by 
the  Duke  of  York's  servants  after  they  removed  to  Dorset  Gardens  in  1671  ; 
and  Downes,  the  prompter  of  that  playhouse,  mentions  it  in  his  quaint  language, 
that  she  was  before  that  time  '  by  force  of  love  crept  from  the  stage.' " 

The  editor  of  the  last  English  edition  ""*  has  had  some  idea 
glimmering  in  his  mind  that  Roxolana,  and  not  Roxana,  was 
the  lady  seduced  by  the  founder  of  the  regiment  still  distin- 
guished from  his  colonelcy  as  the  Oxford  Blues.  He  inserts, 
without  remark,  the  following  extract  from  Evelyn : — 

"9  J^'^-  1 66 1-2. — I  saw  the  third  part  of  the  Siege  of  Rhodes.  In  this 
acted  y'  faire  and  famous  comedian,  called  Roxolana,  from  y*  part  she  per- 
form'd  ;  and  I  think  it  was  the  last,  she  being  taken  to  be  the  Earl  of  Oxford's 
misse,  as  at  that  time  they  began  to  call  lewd  women." 

To  this  I  must  add  that  Pepys,  as  usual,  comes  in  to  sup- 
port the  accuracy  of  his  friend  and  fellow  memorialist : — 

*  That  of  Bohn  in  1846. 


DE    GRAMMONTS    MEMOIRS.    '  I33 

"18  Feb.  1 66 1-2. — To  the  Opera  and  saw  The  Law  against  Lovers,  a  good 
play  and  well  performed,  especially  the  little  girls  (whom  I  never  saw  act 
before)  dancing  and  singing ;  and  were  it  not  for  her,  the  loss  of  Roxolana 
would  spoil  the  house. 

*'  2  April,  1662. — To  the  Opera  and  there  saw  The  Bondman  most  excel- 
lently acted  .  .  ,  lanthe  acting  Cleron's  part  very  well  now  Roxolana  is  gone." 

"  19  May,  1662. — To  the  Opera,  and  there  saw  the  second  part  of  the 
Siege  of  Rhodes,  but  it  is  not  so  well  done  as  when  Roxolana  was  there,  who, 
it  is  said,  is  now  owned  by  my  Lord  of  Oxford." 

"27  Dec.  1662. — With  my  wife  to  the  Duke's  Theatre,  and  saw  the  second 
part  of  Rhodes  done  with  the  new  Roxolana ;  which  do  it  rather  better  in  all 
respects  for  person,  voice,  and  judgment,  than  the  first  Roxolana." 

The  new  Roxolana  was  Mrs.  Betterton ;  the  old  Roxolana, 
"Lord  Oxford's  misse,"  either  Frances  or  Elizabeth  Daven- 
port; for  there  were  two  sisters  of  that  name  on  the  stage  of 
the  Duke's  Theatre  at  this  time.  I  suspect,  however,  that  the 
old  Roxolana  was  the  younger  sister,  Betty.  The  elder  was 
on  the  stage  in  1668  : — 

"  7  April,  1668. — The  eldest  Davenport  is,  it  seems,  gone  to  be  kept  by 
somebody,  which  I  am  glad  of,  she  being  a  very  bad  actor." — Pep  vs. 

Now  it  appears  from  Lilly's  Nativities  in  the  Ashmolean 
Museum,  that  the  Earl  of  Oxford's  son  by  Roxolana  was  born 
17th  April,  1664,  and  Roxolana  herself  3rd  March,  1642. 
Whenever  a  new  edition  of  De  Grammont  is  again  required 
(and  a  new  one  is  very  much  needed),  I  hope  to  see  no  more 
confusion  in  this  matter.''' 

Chapter  X.  of  the  Memoirs  is  equally  true  to  the  chro- 
nology of  history.  Here  we  have  the  story  of  Lord  Rochester's 
residence  as  a  German  doctor  in  Tower  Street,  and  that  famous 
adventure  of  Miss  Jennings  and  Miss  Price  disguised  as  orange- 

*  I  may  add,  that  the  next  editor  will  do  well  to  refer  to  Malone's  note  about  the  age  of 
the  Earl  of  Oxford,  proving  from  indisputable  evidence  that  Lord  Oxford  was  seventy-five 
instead  of  being,  as  the  annotators  inform  us,  upwards  of  eighty  at  his  death. 


134  APPENDIX. 

girls.  No  one  has  told  us  when  Rochester  assumed  the  part 
of  Alexander  Bendo,  and  issued  his  bill  detailing  what  he  had 
done  and  what  he  could  do ;  but  there  is  reason  to  believe 
that  it  was  before  the  26th  May,  1665,  when  he  ran  off  with  the 
heiress  he  subsequently  married.  Rochester  was  at  the  attack 
on  Bergen,  on  the  2nd  August,  1665,  at  the  great  fight  at 
sea  in  1666,  and  married  to  Elizabeth  Mallet,  "the  melancholy 
heiress,"  as  Hamilton  calls  her,  before  the  4th  February, 
1666-7,  when  Pepys  records  his  seeing  them  at  court  as  man 
and  wife.  Hamilton  connects  the  two  events, — Rochester's 
City  residence,  and  Miss  Jennings  and  Miss  Price's  disguise  as 
orange-girls.  Pepys  is  silent  about  the  German  doctor,  but 
Miss  Jennings'  adventure  did  not  escape  him : — 

"21  Feb.  1664-5. — My  Lady  Sandwich  tells  me  what  mad  freaks  the  mayds 
of  honour  at  court  have  :  that  Mrs.  Jennings,  one  of  the  Duchesse's  maids, 
the  other  day  dressed  herself  like  an  orange  wench,  and  went  up  and  down 
and  cried  oranges  ;  till  falling  down,  or  by  some  accident,  her  fine  shoes  were 
discerned,  and  she  put  to  a  great  deal  of  shame." 

Hamilton's  description  is  in  keeping  with  the  narrative  in 
Pepys : — 

"  He  [Brouncker]  was,  however,  surprised  to  see  them  have  much  better 
shoes  and  stockings  than  women  of  that  rank  generally  wear,  and  that  the 
little  orange-girl,  in  getting  out  of  a  very  high  coach,  showed  one  of  the  hand- 
somest legs  he  had  ever  seen." 

Miss  Jennings  was  not  very  likely  to  have  made  a  second 
disguise  of  this  description,  so  that  we  may  assume  fairly 
enough  that  Pepys  and  Hamilton  record  the  same  adventure. 
It  deserves  to  be  remembered  that  this  Miss  Jennings  was  after- 
wards the  reduced  Duchess  of  Tyrconnel,  who  sat  at  the  New 
Exchange  and  played  the  part  of  the  "White  Milliner,"  an 
adventure  still  more  notorious  than  her  trip  to  the  German, 
Alexander  Bendo. 


DE    GRAMMONTS    MEMOIRS.  I35 

The  visit  of  the  Court  to  Tunbridge  Wells,  also  described 
in  Chapter  X.,  must  have  taken  place  before  the  3rd  June, 
1665,  because  Lord  Muskerry,  who  was  killed  in  the  action  of 
3rd  June,  1665,  attended  the  Court  on  that  occasion  with  his 
wife,  the  celebrated  Babylonian  Princess  of  the  Memoirs.  The 
Court  was  at  Tunbridge  in  July,  1663,  and  again  in  July,  1666. 
Hamilton  has  confounded,  I  fancy,  the  two  visits.  Lord  Mus- 
kerry and  Nell  Gwyn,  he  says,  were  both  present.  Now  Lord 
Muskerry  was  dead  before  the  second  visit,  and  Nell  was  un- 
known when  the  first  took  place.  Another  historical  event 
referred  to  in  this  chapter  was  the  visit  of  the  Duke  of  York  to 
the  city  whose  name  he  bore.  This  took  place  in  August, 
1665.  A  third  is  the  death  of  Edward  Montagu  before  Ber- 
gen, 2nd  August,  1665  ;  a  fourth,  the  Duchess  of  York's  amour 
with  Henry  Sydney,  discovered  while  the  Court  was  at  York 
in  August,  1665;^  and  a  fifth,  the  commencement  of  the 
Duke's  partiality  for  Arabella  Churchill,  another  consequence 
of  his  visit  to  the  north. 

In  the  same  chapter  we  are  told  that  Wilmot,  Earl  of 
Rochester,  made  love  (love,  shall  we  call  it  ?)  to  a  niece  of  one  of 
the  Mothers  of  the  Maids.  Her  name  is  not  given  :  she  is  only 
called  Miss  Sarah.  She  had  some  disposition,  it  is  said,  for 
the  stage ;  and  Hamilton  tells  us,  that  after  Lord  Rochester 
"had  entertained  both  the  niece  and  the  aunt  for  some  months 
in  the  country,  he  got  her  entered  in  the  king's  company  of 


*  There  cannot,  I  think,  be  any  doubt  of  the  intrigue  of  the  Duchess  of  York  (Anne 
Hyde)  with  Harry  Sidney,  afterwards  Earl  of  Romney,  brother  of  Algernon  Sidney  and  of 
Waller's  Sacharissa.  See  on  what  testimony  it  rests.  Hamilton  more  than  hints  at  it  ; 
Burnet  is  very  pointed  about  it  in  his  History  ;  Rercsby  just  mentions  and  Pepys  refers  to  it 
in  three  distinct  entries  and  on  three  different  authorities.  But  the  evidence  is  not  yet  at  an 
end.  "  How  could  the  Duke  of  York  make  my  mother  a  papist  ?  "  said  the  Princess  Mary 
to  Dr.  Burnet.  "  The  Duke  caught  a  man  in  bed  with  her,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  and  then  had 
power  to  make  her  do  anything."  The  Prince,  who  sat  by  the  fire,  said  "  Pray,  Madam,  ask 
the  Doctor  a  few  more  questions."     Spence's  Anecdotes,  ed.  Singer,  p.  329. 


136  APPENDIX. 

comedians  the  next  winter ;  and  the  public  was  obliged  to  him 
for  the  prettiest,  but  at  the  same  time  the  worst  actress  in  the 
kingdom."  This,  the  annotators  tell  us,  was  Mrs.  Barry — 
*'  famous  Mrs.  Barry,"  as  she  was  called ;  and  we  have  a  long, 
rambling,  incorrect  history  of  the  lady  in  consequence.  Surely, 
however,  the  description  is  not  at  all  applicable  to  Mrs.  Barry, 
who  was  so  far  from  being  the  prettiest  and  the  worst  actress, 
that  she  was  the  ugliest  and  the  best.  Look  at  her  portrait  at 
Hampton  Court  in  Kneller's  large  picture  of  King  William  on 
horseback !  She  was  anything  but  pretty.  "And  yet  this  fine 
creature,"  says  Tony  Aston,  "was  not  handsome,  her  mouth 
opening  most  on  the  right  side,  which  she  strove  to  draw  in 
t'other  way," — a  very  indifferent  account  of  the  "prettiest 
actress." 

But  let  us  come  to  dates.  When  was  Mrs.  Barry  born  ? 
She  departed  this  life,  her  monument  at  Acton  tells  us,  on  the 
7th  of  November,  1713,  aged  fifty-five  years.  She  was,  con- 
sequently, born  in  1658,  and  was  only  eleveji  years  old  in  1669, 
the  date  of  the  last  event  related  in  the  De  Grammont  Mem- 
oirs. Now  Mrs.  Barry  came  first  upon  the  stage,  there  is 
every  reason  to  believe,  in  1674;*  and  the  events  in  the  De 
Grammont  Memoirs  may  all  be  said  to  have  taken  place  (as  I 
have  shown)  prior  to  October,  1669.  Mrs.  Barry's  name  was 
Elizabeth,  not  Sarah.  "  Miss  Sarah  "  therefore  was  not  Mrs. 
Barry.  Who,  then,  was  she  ?  Unquestionably  Sarah  Cooke, 
an  actress  at  the  King's  House,  who  spoke  the  prologue  on 
the  first  night  of  Rochester's  Valeiitinian,  and  the  new  pro- 
logue on  the  second  night.  She  seems  to  have  been  but  an 
indifferent  actress,  and  her  parts  were  generally  restricted  to 
prologues  and  epilogues.  She  is  mentioned  in  the  State 
Poems  ;\    by   Dryden    in    a  letter  to  Tonson ;  J    and   by   Sir 

*  Genest's  History  of  the  Stage,  i.  157.  f  State  Poems,  8vo.  1703,  p.  136. 

%  Malone,  ii.  p.  24. 


DE  grammont's  memoirs.  137 

George  Etherege,  not  very  decently,  in  a  MS.  letter  now  be- 
fore me.*  Count  Hamilton  is  not  inexact  in  his  chronology: 
it  is  his  annotators  who  are  wrong. 

The  eleventh  and  last  chapter  preserves  the  same  historical 
consistency  to  the  seven  years  over  which  the  events  recorded 
in  the  Memoirs  may  safely  be  confined ; — the  marriage  of  the 
Duke  of  Monmouth  (20th  April,  1663);  the  visit  of  the  Court 
to  Bristol  in  September,  1663  ;  the  birth  of  Henry  Fitzroy, 
Earl  of  Euston  and  Duke  of  Grafton  (20th  September,  1663); 
the  return  of  the  Court  to  London  (2nd  October,  1663);  the 
mention  of  the  fitting  out  of  the  Guinea  fleet  in  August,  1664 ; 
the  expedition  against  Gigery  in  October,  1664;  the  mar- 
riage of  La  Belle  Stuart  in  March,  1667;  the  duel  of  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham  and  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  (16th  January, 
1667-8);  Lord  Buckhurst's  carrying  off  Nell  Gwyn  in  July, 
1667;  the  attack  on  Henry  Killigrew,  i8th  May,  1669;  and 
the  marriage  of  Count  Grammont  to  Elizabeth  Hamilton  in 
1668.  Here  the  Memoirs  end,  De  Grammont  returning  to 
France  with  his  wife  and  family  in  October,  1669. 

I  have  thus  reduced  a  book  which,  as  Walpole  says,  has 
really  nothing  to  do  with  chronology,  into  something  like 
chronological  exactness.  A  few  events,  however,  still  remain 
unnoticed, — such  as  the  creation  of  the  Countess  of  Castlemaine 
to  be  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  somewhat  antedated  in  the  Mem- 
oirs, for  the  creation  did  not  take  place  till  the  3rd  August, 
1670 ;  the  intrigue  of  the  Duchess  with  Colonel  Churchill  appar- 
ently placed  some  seven  or  eight  years  beforehand ;  the  letter 
to  Lord  Cornwallis  about  his  father-in-law.  Sir  Stephen  Fox, 
which  could  scarcely  have  been  written  before  the  27th  Decem- 
ber, 1673,  when  Lord  Cornwallis  married  Sir  Stephen  Fox's 
daughter,  and  the  reference  in  the  last  page  but  one  to  the 
publication  of  Ovid's  Epistles,  "translated  into  English  verse 

♦Addit.  MSS.  in  British  Museum,  No.  11,513. 


130  APPENDIX. 

by  the  greatest  wits  at  Court ; "  when  it  is  known  that  the 
earliest  printed  edition  of  Ovid's  Epistles  in  English  verse  was 
published  in  1680,  sixteen  years  too  late  to  have  suggested 
to  Miss  Jennings  her  parody  on  the  "  Epistle  of  Ariadne  to 
Theseus,"  addressed  to  the  perfidious  Jermyn,  and  containing 
a  description  of  the  perils  and  monsters  that  awaited  him  in 
Guinea.  Perhaps,  after  all,  no  reference  whatever  was  intended 
to  a  printed  edition ;  and  that  the  word  published  must  be 
taken  in  its  ordinary  sense  of  circulated,  though  now  commonly 
applied  to  what  is  printed: — and  this,  I  see  every  reason  to 
think,  was  the  case. 

The  Count  de  Grammont,  who  died  on  the  30th  January, 
1707,  is  said  to  have  dictated  these  3Iemoirs  to  his  vivacious 
brother-in-law.  "  I  only  hold  the  pen,"  says  Hamilton,  "while 
he  directs  it  to  the  most  remarkable  and  secret  passages  of  his 
life."  This  is  in  Chapter  I. ;  in  the  eleventh  and  last  chapter 
he  says,  "We  profess  to  insert  nothing  in  these  Memoirs  but 
what  we  have  heard  from  the  mouth  of  him  whose  actions  and 
sayings  we  transmit  to  posterity."  And  a  little  farther  on  the 
same  page  he  observes,  "  For  my  own  part  I  should  never  have 
thought  that  the  attention  of  the  Count  de  Grammont,  which  is 
at  present  so  sensible  to  inconveniences  and  dangers,  would 
have  ever  permitted  him  to  entertain  amorous  thoughts  upon 
the  road,  if  he  did  not  himself  dictate  to  me  what  I  am  now 
writing."  No  one  has  thought  for  a  moment  that  De  Gram- 
mont, was,  in  point  of  fact,  the  author  of  the  Memoirs  which 
bear  his  name.  His  excellence  as  a  man  of  wit  was  entirely 
limited  to  conversation.  He  is  said,  however,  to  have  sold  the 
MS.  for  1500  livres;  and  it  is  added  that  when  the  MS.  was 
brought  to  Fontenelle,  then  censor  of  the  press,  he  refused  to 
license  it  on  account  of  the  scandalous  conduct  imputed  to  the 
Court  in  a  party  at  quinze,  described  in  the  third  chapter. 

It  is  a  somewhat  singular  omission  on  the  part  of  all  the 


DE    GRAMMONTS    MEMOIRS.  1 39 

English  editors  and  annotators  of  De  Grammont,  that  they  do 
not  tell  us  when  the  first  edition  of  the  Memoirs  appeared.  If 
the  book  was  printed  in  De  Grammont's  lifetime,  which  the 
story  of  the  license  granted  by  Fontenelle  to  the  Count  himself 
certainly  supposes,  there  must  have  been  an  edition  before 
1707,  the  year  in  which  the  Count  died;  whereas  the  earliest 
edition  described  by  Watt,  and,  what  is  more,  the  earliest 
edition  preserved  in  the  British  Museum,  is  an  edition  in  i2mo., 
printed  at  Cologne  in  17 13.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  there 
is  no  edition  of  a  prior  date ;  ^'  and  for  this  reason,  that,  had 
the  book  been  published  in  the  Count's  lifetime,  we  should  have 
had  an  English  translation  of  it  before  that  of  Boyer  in  1714, 
unquestionably  the  earliest  English  translation  of  the  work.  I 
was  once  willing  to  think  that  the  publication  had  been  withheld 
to  that  year  from  motives  of  delicacy  towards  many  mentioned 
in  the  work,  who  were  still  alive.  For  instance,  the  Earl  of 
Chesterfield,  who  makes  so  conspicuous  a  figure  in  the  work, 
and  Progers,  another  person  not  very  delicately  referred  to, 
were  both  removed  by  death  in  171 3,  the  year  in  which  the 
first  edition  was  published.  But  this  supposition  is,  I  have 
since  found,  of  very  little  value,  for  when  the  first  English 
translation  appeared,  eight  different  persons  particularly  re- 
ferred to  in  the  work  were  still  alive:  Sir  Stephen  Fox  and 
Sir  Charles  Lyttelton,  both  of  whom  died  in  171 6;  Lady  Lyt- 
telton  (Miss  Temple  that  was),  who  died  in  1718;  the  great 
Duke  of  Marlborough,  who  died  in  1722  ;  Mrs.  Godfrey  (Ara- 
bella Churchill)  and  Mademoiselle  de  la  Garde,  both  of  whom 
died  in  if3o;  the  Duchess  of  Tyrconnell  (Frances  Jennings), 
who  died  in  1 73 1  ;  and  the  Duchess  of  Buccleuch  (the  widow 
of  Monmouth  and  the  Earl  of  Cornwallis),  the  last  survivor  of 
Hamilton's  heroes  and  heroines,  who  died  on  the  6th  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1 73 1-2,  in  the  eighty-first  year  of  her  age.     To  three 

*  Mr.  Bolton  Comey  is  also  of  this  opinion  {Notes  and  Queries,  vol.  iv.  p.  261). 


140  APPENDIX. 

ladies,  Jennings,  Temple,  and  Arabella  Churchill,  the  Memoirs 
of  de  Gra7nmo7it  must  have  been  a  very  unwelcome  publication  ; 
and  any  delicacy  that  existed  towards  Lord  Chesterfield  must 
have  been  felt  in  a  much  stronger  degree  for  the  ladies  who 
were  still  alive  to  remember  and  regret  the  follies  and  frailties 
of  their  youth.  It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  add,  that  the  work 
attracted  a  great  deal  of  attention  at  the  time, — so  much  atten- 
tion, indeed,  that  a  tract,  price  two-pence,  was  published  in 
1 71 5,  called,  A  Key  to  Count  Gra^nmont' s  Memoirs,  and  Boyer's 
bald  translation  of  the  book  was  reprinted  in  1 719.  If  a  *'  key" 
was  necessary  then,  still  more  necessary  is  it  now,  for  very  few 
books  stand  so  much  in  need  of  historical  illustration. 


B. 

SOME    ACCOUNT    OF   HAMILTON,    HIS   BROTHERS   AND    SISTERS. 

"The  beauties  at  Windsor,"  says  Walpole,  "are  the  Court 
of  Paphos,  and  ought  to  be  engraved  for  the  Memoirs  of  its 
charming  historiographer.  Count  Hamilton."  If  the  reader  is 
of  Walpole's  way  of  thinking,  how  much  more  necessary  is  it 
that  something  should  be  said  about  "the  charming  historio- 
grapher" himself! 

Anthony  Hamilton  (who  never  appears  himself  in  any  part 
of  his  work)  was  the  third  son  of  the  Honourable  Sir  George 
Hamilton,  by  Mary  Butler,  third  daughter  of  Walter,  Viscount 
Thurles,  eldest  son  of  Walter,  eleventh  Earl  of  Ormond.  His 
father,  who  died  in  1667,  leaving  six  sons  and  three  daughters, 
was  the  fourth  son  of  James,  first  Earl  of  Abercorn.  His  mother 
died  in  August,  1680,  as  appears  from  an  interesting  and  affect- 


THE   HAMILTOXS.  I4I 

ine  letter  of  her  brother,  the  qreat  Duke  of  Ormond,  dated 
Carrick,  August  25,  in  that  year. 

Of  the  sLv  sons  of  the  Honourable  Sir  George  Hamilton, 
James,  the  eldest,  was  groom  of  tlie  bedchamber  and  colonel  of 
a  reeiment  of  foot  to  Charles  II.     I  can  find  no  earlier  mention 
of  him  tlian  the  following  passage  in  a  letter  from  Edward 
Savage  to  Sancroft,  tlien  Dean  of  Sl  Paul's,  and  afterwards 
Archbishop  of  Canterbur}*.     The  letter  is  dated,  "From  tlie 
Cockpit  at  Wliitehall,  25  October,  1664,"  and  the  passage  is  as 
follows: — "Mr.  O'Xeale,  of  Bedchamber,  dyed  yesterday,  very 
rich,  and  left  his  old  lady  all.     Mr.  James  Hamilton,  the  Duke 
of  Ormond's  nephew,  shall  have  his  groome  of  tlie  Bedcham- 
ber's place,  and  Sir  William  Blakestone  his  Troop  of  Horse."  * 
Savasre  was  ris::ht  in  his  intellisrence ;  Hamilton  received  the 
appointment.     But  this  was  not  the  first  time  tlie  king  had 
shown  a  friendly  feeling  towards  him.     He  had  previously  in- 
terested himself  in  obtaining  for  him  tlie  hand  in  marriage  of 
Elizabetli   Colepepper,   eldest  daughter  of  John,    Lord  Cole- 
pepper,  of  Thoresway,  but  it  is  uncertain  when  the  marriage 
took  place.     Wood,  in  his  edition  of  Dou^/as's  Picra^t',  puts  it 
under  1661,  a  year,  I  think,  at  least,  too  late;  the  parish  regis- 
ter of  St   Margaret's.  Westminster,  recording  the  baptism  of 
George,  tlieir  second  son,  on  the  iSdi  ^larch,  1662-3.     ^'o** 
did  the  king's  regard  for  James  Hamilton  cease  with  the  Bed- 
chamber appointment.     By  a  privy  seal  of  the  29tli  Novem- 
ber,   1 67 1    (Harl.  MS.  7344)  he  made    him   ranger  of  Hyde 
Park,    from   which    appointment    Hamilton    Place,    Piccadilly, 
derives  its  name.     By  letters  patent  of  the   15th  May,    1672, 
he    granted   him    a   pension    of  S^o/.   per   annum;    but   this 
he   did    not   live    ver\-   lonof    to    eniov.      In    the   enqfas^ement 
against  the   Dutch,   4di  June,    1673.  he  had  one  of  his  legs 
taken    off    by    a   cannon-ball,    and    dying    on  the    6th,    was 

♦HarL  MS.  17S5. 


142 


APPENDIX. 


buried    next    day,    as   the   register   records,    in   Westminster 
Abbey. 

"1673,  Coll.  Hamilton,  rec*^  his  death  wound  in  y'  engagem'  ag*'  y*  Dutch, 
was  b"*  w''"  y'  north  mon*  door,  June  7." 

It  deserves  to  be  told,  to  the  credit  of  the  king,  that  he  was 
not  forgetful  of  the  widow  and  children  of  James  Hamilton. 
I  have  letters  patent  before  me,  dated  20th  July,  1673,  granting 
a  yearly  pension  of  850/.  to  Mrs.  Hamilton,  in  trust  for  her 
three  sons,  and  a  yearly  pension  of  500/.  for  herself  Mrs. 
Hamilton  died  in  1709,  aged  seventy-two.  Of  her  three  sons, 
James,  the  eldest,  was  sixth  Earl  of  Abercorn ;  George,  the 
second,  was  killed  at  the  battle  of  Steinkirk,  in  1692;  and 
William,  the  youngest,  settled  at  Bocton  Place,  near  Lenham, 
in  Kent,  and  acquired  a  large  property  there.*  And  this  is  all 
I  have  been  able  to  discover  of  the  elder  brother,  the  hand- 
some James  Hamilton,  the  hero  of  the  celebrated  adventure  at 
Bretby,  with,  or  rather  without,  the  Countess  of  Chesterfield. 
His  portrait  was  at  the  Marquis  of  Abercorn's,  at  Stanmore, 
but,  I  suppose,  was  sold  with  the  rest  of  the  Stanmore  pictures, 
at  Christie  and  Manson's,  a  few  years  back. 

George,  the  second  son  of  Sir  George  and  Lady  Hamilton, 
married  "the  lovely  Jennings;" — Frances  Jennings,  elder 
daughter  and  coheir  of  Richard  Jennings,  of  Sandridge,  in 
Hertfordshire,  and  sister  of  Sarah  Jennings,  the  celebrated 
Duchess  of  Marlborough.  He  had  three  daughters  (his  elder 
brother  had  three  sons),  all  nobly  married  :  Elizabeth  to  Rich- 
ard, Viscount  Ross  ;  f  Frances  to  Henr}^  Viscount  Dillon ;  and 
Mary  to  Nicholas,  Viscount  Kingsland.     The  king,  by  a  war- 

*  They  would  appear  to  have  had  another  son,  who  probably  died  young  : — 

4  Nov.  1664. — John  Hambleton,  S.  to  James  Hambleton,  Esq.,  by  Dame  Eliz.  his 
wife. — Baptismal  Register  of  St.  Margaret's,   Westminster. 
•f  21  March,   1666-7,    Eliz.    Hambleton,  d,  to  George,   Esq.,  by  Frances. — Baptismal 
Register  of  St.  Margaret's,  Westminster. 


THE    HAMILTONS.  1 43 

rant  before  me,  dated  20th  April,  1666,  granted  liim  a  pension 
of  500/.  a-year,  '*  the  better  to  enable  him  to  support  himself 
and  family."  He  is  there  called  **  George  Hamilton,  Esq., 
Lieutenant  of  our  troop  of  Guards."  He  was  in  love  with  Miss 
Stewart,  and  a  most  amusing  account  of  the  doings  in  her 
chamber  is  put  into  his  mouth  by  his  brother  Anthony.  This 
is  the  Hamilton  who  served  in  the  French  army  with  distinc- 
tion. I  know  not  when  he  died.  Evelyn,  however,  is  of  some 
assistance  in  determining  the  time.  "12  November,  1675. 
There  was  in  my  lady  ambassadress's  company  my  Lady 
Hamilton,  a  sprightly  young  lady,  much  in  the  good  graces  of 
the  family,  wife  of  that  valiant  and  worthy  gentleman,  George 
Hamilton,  not  long  after  slaine  in  the  warrs.  She  had  been 
a  maid  of  honour  to  the  Dutchesse,  and  now  turn'd  Papist." 
His  widow  married  Tall  Talbot,  afterwards  Earl  and  Duke  of 
Tyrconnell  (d.  1691),  the  hero  of  the  famous  Lillibullero  ballad, 
and  dying  in  Dublin,  6th  March,  1731,  was  buried  in  St.  Pat- 
rick's Cathedral. 

Anthony,  "the  charming  historiographer,"  was  the  tJiird 
son.  He  is  said  to  have  been  born  at  Roscrea,  in  the  county 
of  Tipperary,  in  1646,  in  which  year  Owen  O'Neale  took  Ros- 
crea, and,  as  Carte  says,  "  put  man,  and  woman,  and  child,  to 
the  sword,  except  Sir  George  Hamilton's  lady,  sister  to  the 
Marquis  of  Ormond,  and  some  few  gentlewomen  whom  he  kept 
prisoners."  His  father  and  mother  were  Roman  Catholics; 
Anthony  therefore  was  bred  in  the  religion  to  which  he  ad- 
hered conscientiously  through  life.  He  was  twenty-two  years 
old  when  his  sister,  La  Belle  Hamilton,  married  the  Count  de 
Grammont ;  about  which  time  he  went  abroad,  and,  unable  as 
a  Roman  Catholic  to  find  employment  at  home,  entered  the 
army  of  Louis  XIV.  "  He  distinguished  himself,"  it  is  said, 
"  in  his  profession,  and  was  advanced  to  considerable  posts  in 
the  French  service."     When  James  II.  succeeded  to  the  throne, 


144  APPENDIX. 

and  the  door  of  preferment  was  open  to  Roman  Catholics,  An- 
thony Hamilton  entered  the  Irish  army,  where  we  find  him,  in 
1686,  a  lieutenant-colonel  in  Sir  Thomas  Newcomen's  regi- 
ment. Other  appointments  were  in  store  for  him,  and  he  was 
subsequently  constituted  governor  of  Limerick,  colonel  of  a 
regiment,  and  a  privy  councillor.  Lord  Clarendon,  the  son  of 
the  Chancellor,  and  then  lord-lieutenant  of  Ireland,  was  very 
kind  to  him  at  this  time.  H^  speaks  of  him  in  several  of  his 
letters.  "  If  Lieutenant-colonel  Anthony  Hamilton  may  be 
believed,  and  I  take  him  to  be  the  best  of  that  sort."  "  If 
Lieutenant-colonel  Hamilton  may  be  believed,  who  understands 
the  reeiment  better  than  the  colonel,  for  he  makes  it  his  busi- 
ness."  And  to  his  brother,  Lord  kochester,  he  writes,  "  He  is 
a  very  worthy  man,  and  of  great  honour,  and  will  retain  a  just 
sense  of  any  kindness  you  may  do  him.  He  has  been  in  very 
good  employment  and  esteem  when  he  served  abroad,  and  men 
of  honour  cannot  always  brook  the  having  little  men  put  over 
their  heads,  who,  in  the  judgment  of  all  the  world,  are  not 
equal  to  their  stations." ''' 

After  the  total  overthrow  of  James's  affairs  in  Ireland,  he 
retired  to  St.  Germain,  acquired  the  confidence  of  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  of  Berwick  (the  Duke  was  King  James's  son  by 
Arabella  Churchill),  cultivated  his  taste  for  poetry,  wrote  one 
or  two  agreeable  novels,  translated  Pope's  Essay  on  Criticism 
into  French,  carried  on  a  correspondence  with  Lady  Mary 
Wortley  Montagu,  in  the  name  of  his  niece,  the  Countess  of 
Stafford ;  and  havine  sent  his  Memoircs  dc  Grammont  to  the 
press,  died  at  St.  Germain,  21st  April,  1720,  aged  about 
seventy -four,  f 

Thomas,  ^^  fourth  son,  was  bred  to  the  sea  service,  became 

♦See  Clarendon's  Diary  and  Correspondence,  by  Singer,  pp.  421,  423,  553. 
f  For  the  fate  of  Mr.  Hamilton's  Correspondence  with  Mr.  Le  Poer,  see  Preface  to 
"  Hanmer  Papers,"  p.  vii. 


THE   HAMILTONS.  1 45 

captain  of  a  ship  of  war,  and  died  in  New  England.  Richard, 
the  fifth  son,  was  a  brigadier-general  in  King  James's  army  in 
Ireland,  and  a  lieutenant-general  in  the  French  service.  He 
led  King  James's  cavalry  at  the  Battle  of  the  Boyne,  and  died 
in  France.  John,  the  sixth  and  youngest  son,  was  a  colonel  in 
King  James's  army,  and  was  killed  at  the  battle  of  Aghrim  in 
Ireland,  in  1691. 

Of  the  six  sons  of  Sir  George  and  Lady  Hamilton,  three 
were  killed  in  action,  one  died  in  New  England,  and  two  in 
France.  Of  the  three  daughters,  Elizabeth,  the  eldest,  the  only 
one  of  whom  anything  is  known,  was  married  to  the  Count  de 
Grammont,  by  whom  she  also  had  three  daughters.  She  was 
Anthony's  senior  by  five  years,  and  was  twenty-seven  years  old 
when  married.  The  Count  was  forty-seven.  One  of  their 
three  daughters  was  the  Countess  of  Stafford,  described  by 
Lord  Hervey  in  his  Memoirs,  as  "  an  old  French  lady,  daughter 
of  the  famous  Count  de  Grammont,  who  had  as  much  wit,  hu- 
mour, and  entertainment  in  her  as  any  man  or  woman  I  ever 
knew,  with  a  great  justness  in  her  way  of  thinking,  and  very 
little  reserve  in  her  manner  of  giving  her  opinion  of  things  and 
people."  * 

*Lord  Hervey's  Memoirs  ii.  116. 


INDEX. 


Abercorn  (Earl  of),  140,  142. 

Albemarle    (Monk,  Earl  of),  49,  ']']. 

Anglesey  (Earl  of),  24 

Arlington  (Earl  and  Countess  of),  90. 

Armstrong  (Sir  Thomas),  113. 

Ashmole  (Elias),  2. 

Aston  (Anthony),  136. 

Aubrey  (John),  130. 

Avon  (Lord),  128. 

B. 

Barlow  (Mrs.),  94. 

Barrow  (Isaac),  50,  71. 

Barry  (Mrs.),  9,  10,  28,  35,  136. 

Bathurst  (Lord),  120. 

Baxter  (Richard),  112. 

Beauclerk  (James,  Lord),  102. 

Beeston,  8. 

Behn  (Mrs.),  13,  loi,  102. 

Bendo  (Alexander),  134. 

Berenger  (Richard),  62,  120. 

Berkshire  (Earl  of),  18,  39. 

Bernal  (Ralph),  121. 

Berwick  (Duke  and  Duchess  of),  144. 

Betterton  (Thomas),  9,  10,  15,  69. 

(Mrs.),  16,  26,  27,  133. 
Bird  (Theophilus),  7,  8. 
Birkenhead  (Sir  John),  79. 
Blakestone  (Sir  William),  141. 
Blanfort,  128. 

Blood  (Colonel  Thomas),  88. 
Blooteling  (Abraham),  102,  121. 
Bolingbroke  (Henry  St.  John),  28,  87. 
Bolton  (Duchess  of),  28. 
Booth  (James),  115. 
Boutell  (Mrs.),  8,  9. 
Bowman,  54,  86,  109. 
Beyer  (Abel),  43,  139,  140. 


Bracegirdle  (Mrs.),  27,  28. 
Braybrooke  (Lord),  15,  78. 
Brook  (Margaret),  128. 
Brouncker  (Lord),  130,  134. 
Br)-dges  (Sir  Egerton),  121. 
Buccleuch  (Duke  of),  121. 

"         (Duchess  of),  139. 
Buckhurst  (Lord),  3,  23,  26  to  32,  43,  74, 

76,  90,  137. 
Buckingham  (George  Villiers,   II.  Duke 

of),  4,  6,  29,  35,  40,  41,  42,  53,  74,  80, 

105,  137- 
Buckingham  (John  Sheffield,  Lord  Mul- 

grave,  Duke  of),  50,  54,  59,  60,  105. 
Buckingham  (Duchess  of),  88. 
Bulstrode  (Sir  Richard),  71. 
Burbage  (Richard),  9. 
Burford  (Earl  of).     See  St.  Alban's. 
Burlington  (Earl  of),  27. 

"         (Countess  of),  28. 
Burnet  (Gilbert,  Bp.),  48,  50,  53,  58,  59, 

70,  71,  72,  99,  113,  123. 
Burney  (Dr.  Charles),  121. 
Burt  (Nicholas),  7,  8,  21. 
Busby  (Richard),  65. 
Butler  (Samuel),  29,  54. 

C. 

Cartwright  (William),  8. 

Castlemaine.  See  Cleveland  (Duchess  of). 

Catherine  of  Braganza,  78,  88,  89,  127. 

Chandos  (Duke  of),  105. 

Charles  I.,  6,  7. 

Charles  II.,  4,  21,  27,  41,  46,  48,  63,  106. 

Charlotte  (Queen),  120. 

Chesterfield  (Earl  of),  74,  107,  128,  129, 

139.  140. 
Chesterfield  (Countess  of),  128,  129,  130, 

142. 


148 


INDEX. 


Chiffinch  (William),  73,  99. 

Cholmley,  116. 

Churchill  (Arabella),  135,  139. 

(Colonel),  137. 
Cibber  (Colley),  24,  69,  86,  93,  116,  123. 
Clarendon  (Earl  of),  6,  32,  33,  48,  50,  54, 

61,  72,  77.  87. 
Clare  (Earl  of),  24. 
Clarke  (Mary  Anne),  42. 
Clayton  (Sir  Robert),  iii. 
Cleveland  (Duchess  of),  8,  15,  32,  33,  40, 

43.  50,  61,  78,  80,  81,  89,  90,  106, 128, 

137- 

Clun  (Walter),  8. 
Cole  (Robert),  95,  104. 
Colepepper  (John,  Lord),  141. 

"  (Elizabeth),  141. 

Congreve  (William),  21. 
Cooke  (Sarah),  136. 
Cooper  (Richard),  49,  119. 
Corey  (Mrs.),  8,  9,  21,  79. 
Cornwallis  (Lord),  137. 
Cosins  (Bp.  of  Durham),  67. 
Coutts  (Thomas),  119. 
Coventry  (Sir  John),  79. 

(Sir  William),  80, 
Cowley  (Abraham),  11,  32,  53. 
Cowper  (Lord),  107. 
Craven  (Earl  of),  24. 
Cromarty  (Lord),  71,  72. 
Cross  (Miss),  9. 
Crowne  (J.),  55. 

D. 

Dallison  (Sir  Robert),  8. 
Danckers  (Pierre),  119. 
Dartmouth  (Lord),  72. 
Davenant  (Sir  William),  7,  10,  ir,  27, 
Davenport  (Elizabeth),  10,  16,  133. 

"  (Frances),  132,  133. 

Davies  (Thomas),  119. 
Davis  (Moll),  10,  15,  16,  26,  36,  38  to  44, 

79,  81,  90. 
Dayrolles,  74. 
De  Foe  (Daniel),  86. 
Denham  (Sir  John),  128  to  130. 

"         (Lady),  130. 
Dennis  (John),  8. 
Devonshire  (Lord  Cavendish,  Duke  of), 

93.  94- 
Dicks  (Sir  Page),  122. 


Dicky  (Jubilee),  10. 

Dionysius,  70. 

Dillon  (Viscount^,  142. 

Dorchester  (Countess  of),  no. 

Dorset  ([Mrs.  Bagot]  Countess  of),  119. 

Downes  (John),  37,  46. 

Dryden  (John),  3,  11,  18,  21,  43,  48,  54, 

55.  59.  61,  68,  102,  112,  136. 
Duffet  (Thomas),  loi. 
Duncan,  or  Dungan,  16,  17,  18. 
Dungan  (Colonel),  17. 
D'Urfey  (Thomas),  13,  55,  87,  93. 
Dyer  (Daniel),  116. 

E. 

Eastland  (Mrs.),  8. 

Etherege  (Sir  George),  11,  17,  21,  23,  93, 

113,  116,  136. 
Evelyn  (John),   43,  48,   52,   55,  80,   106, 

112,  127,  128,  143. 


Fairborne  (Lady),  116, 
Fairfax  (Sir  Thomas),  87,  88. 
Farquhar  (George),  21. 
Felton  (Lavinia).  See  Bolton  (Duchess  of). 
Feversham  (Earl  of),  17, 
Fielding  (Beau),  24,  41. 
Fontenelle  (Le  Bouyer  de),  138,  139. 
Fox  (Sir  Stephen),  51,  62,  106,  107,  ill, 
117.  137.  139- 


Garrick  (David),  2,  9,  32. 

Gascar  (Henry),  119,  121. 

Gascoign  (Sir  Bernard),  88,  89. 

Gay  (John),  24. 

George  II.,  10,  54. 

George  IV.,  46. 

George,  Prince  of  Denmark,  58. 

Germain  (Sir  John),  104. 

Gibbons  (Grinling),  49, 

Godolphin  (Sidney,  Earl  of),  72. 

Goodman  (Cardell),  8. 

Grace  (Hannah),  116. 

Grafton  (Duke  of),  50,  90,  137. 

Graham  (Richard),  in. 

Grammont  (Count  Philip  de),  17,  89,  93, 

125,  126,  127,  130,  133,  137,  138,  139, 

145. 


INDEX. 


149 


Granbys  (The),  100. 

Granger  (James),  123. 

Granville   (Georg^e,    Baron    Lansdowne), 

46. 
Griffin  (Edward),  78. 
Grosvenor  (Marshall),  120. 
Guildford  (Lord  Keeper),  57,  66,  70. 
Gwyn  (Eleanor),  birth,  2. 

horoscope,  2. 

stage  success,  19. 

deserted  by  Buckhurst, 

33- 
adopted  by  Charles  II., 

44- 
first  son  born,  76. 
second  son  born,  88. 
her  mother,  94. 
illness,  113. 
will,  114. 

death  and  burial,  117. 
Gwyn  (Captain  Thomas),  3. 

H. 

Hailes  (Sir  David  Dalrymple,  Lord),  125. 

Haines  (Joe),  8. 

Hale  (Sir  Matthew),  68. 

Hales,  or  Hayls,  (John),  14. 

Halifax  (Marquess  of),  48,  49,  50,  53,  59. 

Hall  (Jacob),  22,,  97. 

Hallam  (Henry),  125. 

Hamilton  (Anthony),  125,  128,  132,  134, 

m,  138.  139.  140,  143- 
Hamilton  (La  Belle),  Countess  Grammont, 

no,  130.  137,  143. 
Hamilton  (John),  145. 

•'        (Sir  George),  140,  141. 

"         (Richard),  145, 

"        (Thomas),  144. 
Harrington  (Lord),  120. 
Harris  (Joseph),  9,  15. 
Hart  (Charles),  7,  8.  21,  23,  2Z,  34.  35.  4°. 

44,  45,  86,  102. 
Harvey  (Lady),  79. 

Headington  (Baron  of).     See  St.  Alban's. 
Henrietta  Maria,  6,  40. 
Hertford  (Marquess  of),  42. 
Hervey  (Lord),  145. 
Hetherington  (John),  116. 
Hewer  (W.),  41. 
Hewit  (Beau),  24. 
Hobart  (Miss),  130. 


Hobbes  (Thomas),  55,  65. 
Holden  (Mrs.),  10,  11. 
Holford  (Mrs.),  65. 
Hollyman  (Lady),  116. 
Howard  (Hon.  Edward),  18,  26,  79. 
"         (Hon.  James),  18,  39. 

(Sir  Philip),  18,  27,  39. 

(Sir  Robert),  9,  18,  27,  79. 
Hughes  (Mrs.  "  Peg"),  8,  9,  no. 
Hume  (David),  55,  62. 

I. 

Ireland  (Dr.  Joseph),  2. 

J. 

James  I.  of  Scotland,  56. 

V.  "  94,  nr,  &c. 

"       II.  of  England,  56. 
Jameson  (Mrs.),  120. 
Jennings  (Frances  "La  Belle"),  10,  89, 

104.  ^33,  134.  138.  139.  142. 
Jermyn  (Harry),  127,  138. 
Jersey  (Earl  of),  n7. 
Johnson  (Samuel),  69,  102. 
Johnson  (Mrs.),  10. 
Johnstone  (John  Henry),  8. 
Jonson  (Ben),  6,  7,  8,  121. 
Jordan  (Mrs.  Dora),  39,  42. 

K. 

Kembles  (The),  26. 

Ken  (Thomas,  Bp.),  105. 

Kennet  (White),  ii^. 

Killegrew  (Thomas),  6,  7,  n,  18,  53,  137. 

Kingsland  (Viscount),  142. 

Kneller  (Sir  Godfrey),  39,  no. 

Knep  (Mrs.),  8,  9,  12,  15,  20,  21,  27,  34. 

Kynaston  (Edward),  8,  80. 


Lacy  (John),  7,  8,  24,  26,  79,  80,  102. 

La  Garde  (Mad.  de),  139. 

Lake  (Dr.),  49. 

Langbaine  (Gerard),  9,  35. 

Lauderdale  (James  Maitland,  Duke  of), 

50,  72. 
Lee  (Nathaniel),  9,  n. 
Leeds  (Duke  of),  71. 
Legge  (William),  41,  72. 
Leigh  (Anthony),  10,  60. 


ISO 


INDEX. 


Lely  (Sir  Peter),  39,  49,  109,  no,  119, 120, 

121. 
Leslie  (Charles  Robert),  25. 
Lichfield  (Earl  of),  90. 
Lilly  (William),  2,  133. 
Loddy,  95. 
Long  (Mrs.),  10. 
Louis  XIV,,  'J'],  143. 
Lower  (Dr.),  113. 
Lyttleton  (Sir  Charles),  139. 
(Lady),  139. 

M. 

Macaulay  (T.  B.,  Lord),  29,  62.  ' 

Maclise  (Daniel),  25, 

Mallet  (Elizabeth),  134. 

Malone  (Edmond),  132. 

Mansfield  (Lord),  26. 

Marlborough  (Duke  of),  41,  89,  139. 

"  (Duchess  of),  142. 

Marshall  (Stephen),  3,  9. 

"       (Ann),  3,  8,  9,  21,  132. 

"       (Rebecca),  3,  8,  9,  15,  16. 
Mary  II.,  117. 

"     (Princess),  72. 
Masson  (Antoine),  121. 
Masters  (Sir  John),  in. 
May  (Bap.),  39,  119. 
Mazarine  (Duchess  of),  93,  106. 
Medbourne  (Matthew),  10. 
Mellington  (Sir  Thomas),  107. 
Mellon  (Harriet,  Duchess  of  St.  Alban's), 

n9. 
Meyrick  (Sir  Samuel),  120. 
Milton  (John),  32,  87. 
Misson  (Maxim),  82. 
Mohun  (Michael),  7,  8,  21,  102. 
Monk.     See  Albermarle. 
Monmouth  (Duke  of),  45,  50,  67,  90,  93. 

94,  ni,  n3,  128,  137. 
Monmouth  (Duchess  of),  90,  128. 
Montagu  (Lady  Mary  Wortley),  28,  144. 
More  (Sir  Thomas),  i,  124. 
Murphy  (Arthur),  26. 
Musgrave  (Sir  William),  120,  126. 
Muskerry  (Lord),  135. 

"         (Lady),  127. 

N. 

Newcomen  (Sir  Thomas),  144. 
Nokes  (James),  9,  45,  46,  60,  ']']. 


Norfolk  (Duchess  of),  104. 
Norris  (Mrs.),  10. 
North  (Roger),  48,  68. 

O. 

Gates  (Titus),  69. 

Oldfield  (Mrs.),  28. 

Oldys  (William),  2,  16,  17,  86,  94. 

O'Neale,  141. 

Orange  (Prince  of),  72. 

Orleans  (Duchess  of),  45,  76. 

Ormond  (Earl  of),  100,  123,  140,  141. 

Orrery  (Lord),  9,  11,  42. 

Otway  (Thomas),  55,  76,  no. 

Oughtred  (William),  5. 

Oxford  (Earl  of),  10,  16,  27,  130  to  133. 

P. 

Palmer  (Barbara),  2. 

Patrick  (Bp.),  67,  107. 

Pearse  (James),  39. 

Peel  (Sir  Robert),  121. 

Pegg  (Katherine),  90. 

Pembroke  (Earl  of),  82,  90,  114. 

Penderells  (The),  51. 

Penn  (Sir  William),  12,  23,  2)l>  65. 

Pepys  (Samuel),  3,  9,  12  to  15,  19,  20,  21, 

23.  25,  7>Z,  34,  39.  41,  72,  89,  n7,  127, 

128,  129,  134. 
Pepys  (Mrs.),  12,  21. 
Peterborough  (Earl  of),  104. 
Pierce  (Mrs.),  3. 
Pinkerton  (John),  125, 
Plymouth  (Earl  of),  90. 
Pope  (Alexander),  29,  46. 
Porter  (Major),  n. 
Portland  (Weston,  3d  Earl  of),  78. 
Port  more  (Lord),  120. 
Portsmouth  (Duchess  of),  2,  4,  65,  "j^,  jj, 

78,  81,  S3,  85,  89,  90,  102,  106,  109, 

112. 
Potvin  (John),  104. 
Power  (Tyrone),  8. 
Price  (Mrs.),  89,  133,  134. 
Prior  (Matthew),  29,  76. 
Progers,  139. 
Pym  (John),  9. 

Q. 

Queensbury  (Duke  of),  42. 


INDEX. 


151 


Qu^rouaille  (Louise  de).    See  Portsmouth 
(Duchess  of). 

R. 

Rabelais  (Frangois),  5. 
Rawlins  (Giles),  127. 
Reresby  (Sir  John),  66. 
Richardson,  the  Elder,  68. 
Richmond  (Duke  of),  10,  27,  40,  TJ,  80. 
(Duchess  of),  40,  53,  58,  88, 

Riley  (John),  49,  69. 

Roberts  (Mrs.),  99,  113. 

Robinson  (Mrs.),  42,  46. 

Rochester  (Lord),  4,  22,  50,  60,  61,  63,  70, 

113.  114,  133,  134,  135,  144. 
Roper,  88. 

Ross  (Viscount),  142. 
Rupert  (Prince),  9,  27,  51,  no. 
Russell  (Lord  William),  72,  113. 
(Lady  Rachael),  94. 

S. 

Sackville  (Charles),  86. 

St.   Alban's   (Charles,   Earl  of   Burford, 

Duke  of),  44,  79,  91,  102,  112,  114, 

118. 
Sancroft  (William),  67,  Tit  io5>  141. 
Sandford  (Samuel),  9. 
Sandwich  (Earl  of),  89. 

(Lady),  134. 
Sandys  (Lucy  Hamilton),  115. 
Saunderson  (Mary),  10. 
Savage  (Edward),  141. 
Savile  (Henry  S.),  57. 
Sawyer  (Sir  Robert),  114. 
Scarborough  (William),  115. 
Scarsdale  (Lord),  118. 
Scliulenberg  (Erengard  de),  2. 
Scott  (Sir  Walter),  21,  62,  132. 
Sedley  (Sir  Charles),  4,  11,  23,  27,  29,  31, 

80. 
Selwyn  (George),  27. 
Sevigne  (Mme.  de),  84. 
Shadwell  (Thomas),  27,  79. 
Shaftesbury  (Anthony  Cooper,  Earl  of), 

3,  58,  69,  74.  87. 
Shakespeare  (William),  6. 
Shank,  8. 

Sharpe  (Charles  Kirkpatrick),  2. 
Shatterell  (Robert),  8. 


Sheppard  (Sir  Fleetwood),  76. 

Sheridan  (Brinsley),  27. 

Shirley  (James),  8,  54,  109. 

Shore  (Jane),  i,  124. 

Shrewsbury  (Duke  of),  137. 

"  (Countess  of),  105. 

Sidney  (Hon.  Henry),  64,  114,  135. 
"       (Algernon),  135. 

Simon  (Jean  Francois),  49. 

Smith  (William),  9. 

South  (Robert),  50,  70. 

Southampton   (Earl   of),  32,  "]"]  ;   (Duke 
of),  90. 

Spencer  (Lord),  120. 

Stafford  (Countess  of),  144,  145. 

Steele  (Richard),  9,  10. 

Stewart  (Miss),  143. 

Stillingfleet  (Edward),  67,  "j-i)' 

Stuart  (La  Belle),     See  Richmond  (Duch- 
ess of). 

Sudbury,  67. 

Sunderland  (Countess  of),  64. 

Sussex  (Earl  of),  88. 

T. 

Talbot,  41. 

Taylor  (Jeremy),  32. 

Temple  (Sir  William),  48,  58. 

"       (Miss),  130. 
Tenison  (Thomas,  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury), I,  112,  113,  115,  117,  118,  124. 
Teonge,  58. 
Thynne,  113. 
Tillotson  (John),  112. 
Tonson  (Jacob),  136. 
Tyrconnel  (Duke  of),  143.  " 
"         (Duchess  of),  134. 

U. 

Underbill  (Cave),  10. 
Uphill  (Mrs.),  8,  9. 
Urquhart  (David),  5. 

V. 

Valck  (Gerard),  121. 
Vanbrugh  (John),  21. 
Van  Dyck  (Ant.),  119. 
Vere  (Aubrey  de),  130. 

"     (Lady  Diana  de),  119. 
Verelst  (Peter),  no. 
Vernon  (Admiral),  100. 


152 


INDEX. 


Vernon  (Lord),  120. 
Verrio  (Antonio),  93. 
Viner  (Sir  Robert),  63. 

W. 

Waller  (Edmund),  46,  51, 11. 

Walpole  (Sir  Robert),  29,  53,  62,  63,  104, 

125,  137,  140. 
Ward  (E.  M.).  So. 
Warner  (Sir  John),  1^. 

(Dr.  John),  73,  115,  116. 
Watt  (Robert),  139. 
Weaver  (Mrs.),  8. 
Wharton  (Duke  oQ,  75- 
Whitcombe,  101. 
Wigmore,  116. 
Wild  (Jonathan),  4. 


William  III..  118. 
Wilmot.     See  Rochester. 
Winchester  (Marquess  of),  87. 
Wintershall  (William),  8. 
Wissiiig  (William),  109. 
Wood  (Anthony  A.),  141. 
Woolley  (Bp.  of  Clonfort),  70. 
Worcester  (Marquess  of),  32. 
Wren  (Sir  Christopher),  67,  104. 
Wyborne  (Edward),  115. 
Wycherley  (William),  29. 


Yonge  (Sir  William),  53. 

York  (Duke  of),  6,  14,  21,  39,  41,  57,  71, 

72,  86,  90,  94,  128,  129,  135. 
York  (Duchess  of),  88. 


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